


Wild Roses

by royaltyjunk



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Eventual Romance, F/M, Sibling Bonding, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, except one, i'm back binches, i'm giving rights to each of edelgard's siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-01-20 19:31:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21286997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/royaltyjunk/pseuds/royaltyjunk
Summary: [AU] In a world where Those Who Slither in the Dark never existed, Princess Edelgard von Hresvelg is given the hand of Prince Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Edelgard von Hresvelg
Comments: 44
Kudos: 202





	1. In the Month of May

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Ideas: I don’t think I’ve ever defied canon so hard  
NOBODY TELL *NTSYS AND KO*I T*CHMO OR I BREAK YOUR KNEECAPS  
Ha ha ha I actually haven’t finished Verdant Wind yet so I have no clue how far the ramifications of this AU go but whatever I’m just trying to fulfill my Dimitrigard needs!!!!

Edelgard awoke to sunlight blocked by red curtains, filling the room with a soft crimson glow.

She had had a strange dream last night—one of a woman with blue hair and blue eyes whose conscience was shared with a little green-haired girl, who had then gone on to meet Edelgard in the Officers’ Academy of all places. An interesting dream with little relevance, but an interesting one nonetheless.

She glanced around the room, bleary-eyed. Across from her, her twin sister was still sleeping, huddled up tight under her covers. On the other side of the room her mother’s bed was empty, but movement in the corner of her eye made her turn and look.

Her mother was standing near the foot of Edelgard’s bed, looking in the full-body mirror as she smoothed out her skirts. Edelgard pushed the covers off of herself and stood, stifling a yawn behind her hand and pulling her nightgown down as she approached her mother’s side.

“Good morning,” her mother greeted, smiling. Edelgard stood up on her toes, kissing her mother’s cheek gently.

“Good morning,” Edelgard replied. Her mother pressed her hand to Edelgard’s cheek and smiled, leaning down to kiss her forehead. Love warmed her heart, making it feel so full. “Will you be joining Father in the courts today?”

“No. Marquis and Marquess Vestra are visiting today, so Augustine and I plan to take tea with Marquis Vestra. Patricia, Angelika, and Louisa will be joining us. You and Andreas are free to join us as well.”

“They are?” Edelgard asked, tilting her head. “Hubert said nothing of the sort.”

“Well,” Lady Anselma smiled bittersweetly in response, “you must remember that Marquis Vestra and Hubert do not have the… best relationship.” She turned her back to Edelgard. “Would you help me lace up my dress?”

Edelgard nodded and reached out, taking the drawstrings in her hand and lacing the dress up. “...I wish Hubert had a better relationship with his father,” she admitted, letting her hands fall away from her mother’s back.

“I know, my dear. It is not hard to wish good upon such a loyal man.” Edelgard’s mother turned back around, placing her hand on Edelgard’s cheek soothingly. Edelgard savored the warmth for a moment before stepping away and walking to her own vanity.

“If I find time, I may join you for tea,” Edelgard stated, picking up her comb and running it through her hair.

“Only if you find the time, my dear,” her mother responded. “Oh, good morning, Patricia.”

Edelgard turned, smiling when she saw her sister pushing herself out of bed. “Good morning,” Edelgard greeted.

“Good morning,” Patricia replied back, kissing Lady Anselma’s cheek before leaning over to rest her chin on top of Edelgard’s head. “Good morning, El.”

“Good morning, Patty.” Patricia swatted at Edelgard’s head and Edelgard laughed, warmth bubbling in her heart. “I heard your plans for today.”

“Mhm.” Patricia’s arms wrapped around Edelgard’s shoulders, and Edelgard laughed. “Do you have any plans for today?”

Edelgard hummed, staring at the two of them in the mirror. “Andreas wished for me to accompany him into town today. Catriona and Manfred will be returning soon, after all, and he wished to purchase a few things in order to decorate the castle.”

She turned her head, and Patricia’s head went with the motion. They looked the same from almost every angle. Even she, being Patricia’s twin, sometimes could not tell the difference between them in old portraits. The only difference she ever had spotted in their faces was the small mole on Patricia’s chin. Otherwise, they were the same. Pale skin, light brown hair, lavender eyes, a sharp nose and slim lips—all the same.

“Oh, how nice,” their mother spoke up, breaking Edelgard out of her thoughts. “Do take care, won’t you?”

“Yes, Mother,” they both echoed, and Lady Anselma laughed.

“I was speaking to El, but yes. Both of you ought to take care. Patricia, go get dressed. Angelika will be coming by any moment now.”

“Ah! Yes, Mother.” Patricia darted off into the closet to pick out a dress, and her mother sat down beside Edelgard at the vanity.

“I’m sure you are quite excited to see Catriona again.”

“I am,” Edelgard admitted. Catriona, the third-oldest sibling of the family, had been Edelgard’s companion throughout her early years. “I still can’t believe that she’s been gone for a year.”

Lady Anselma patted powder onto her face, smiling at Edelgard’s words. “It is always strange to lose a child of the family, whether they are mine or not.” She paused, and then shook her head. “‘Lose’ is perhaps not the right word… I believe to describe them as ‘moving on’ would be more adequate.” Lady Anselma sighed, dusting her hands free of setting powder. “Oh, I’m sure you two will move on and leave the castle one day…”

“Don’t say that.” Edelgard shook her head and hugged her mother tightly. “I won’t leave you for a while, Mother. That much, at the very least, I can promise.”

Lady Anselma laughed, curling up into Edelgard’s arms. “Ah, I truly do have the greatest daughters in the world. I love you, El.”

“I love you too, Mother,” Edelgard hummed happily, squeezing her mother reassuringly before letting her go.

“El!” Patricia’s voice rang out from the closet. “Should I wear blue or yellow?”

“You’re having tea out in the gardens, aren’t you? In that case, wear blue.” Edelgard finished pulling the comb through her hair and set it down, watching amusedly as Patricia burst out of the closet dramatically, the dress half-cinched around her. Lady Anselma looked her daughter up and down, setting down her lip rouge pen and sighing fondly. She stood and offered Patricia the seat, helping Patricia lace up her dress as Patricia put on makeup.

“You know, I did try to wake you earlier,” their mother said. Patricia gasped dramatically, and Edelgard laughed.

“Mother! You could have tried harder!” Patricia patted her face down with powder and opened the drawer, pulling out her own lip rouge pen.

“Well, I most certainly did, but I’m afraid you are ever the hard one to awaken, my daughter.” Lady Anselma made a tight knot within the lacing of Patricia's dress and reached up, stroking Patricia’s hair soothingly.

“Patricia!” A voice called from outside of their room.”And Lady Anselma!”

Her mother smiled. “Angelika calls. Come, Patricia. El, I shall see you for supper then?”

“Of course, Mother.” She let her mother hug her for a moment before she settled back into her seat, carefully braiding her hair.

Patricia leaned down to kiss Edelgard’s cheek affectionately, but when she pulled away she sighed. “For the goddess’s sake,” Patricia muttered. Edelgard glanced at herself in the mirror and laughed lightly when she saw the clear imprint of Patricia’s red lip rouge on her cheek.

“Hold still,” Edelgard told her sister and picked up Patricia’s lip rouge pen, re-outlining and re-filling her sister’s lips with a soft coral. “There you are.”

“Thanks, El. Love you.” Patricia pulled her into a hug, and Edelgard let go of her braid to hug her sister back. A life like this, with her mother and her sister and all her other siblings, was more than anything she could ever ask for.

“Of course. I love you too.” Edelgard loosened her grip on her sister, gently pushing her away. “Now, go. You wouldn’t want to keep them waiting.”

“Okay. Don’t forget to wipe your face.” With that, Patricia shut the door behind her and left Edelgard to her own musings. Edelgard finished braiding her hair, letting it rest on her shoulder before filling in her own lips with lip rouge (and wiping off the imprint of Patricia’s red lips on her cheek). Setting powder was unnecessary—she would be walking among the crowds in the markets today, and it would surely be rubbed off.

A simple maroon gown and leather slippers would not draw much attention either. Fully dressed alongside a small woven basket, she set out of her room—

—and almost immediately collided with Wolfgang, one of her older brothers. She gasped and stepped back, curtsying deeply.

“I’m so sorry.”

“No, you don’t need to apologize, El.” Wolfgang smiled and bowed slightly. “I wasn’t watching where I was going. If you’ll excuse me.”

“You’re in quite a hurry,” she commented. Wolfgang chuckled.

“Lycaon requested my presence. We all know better than to keep our esteemed oldest brother waiting.”

At that, Edelgard hid a laugh behind her hand. “Yes, you’re right,” she agreed. They all knew how Lycaon could get. “If you’ll excuse me.” She curtsied to Wolfgang as a farewell before turning and continuing down the hallway.

She knocked on Andreas’s door, frowning when no answer came. “Andreas?” she called tentatively, unsure of what was happening. Thankfully, a pair of arms wrapping around her torso and squeezing her impossibly tightly gave her the answer.

“I’m right here!” her younger brother laughed.

“So I can see,” Edelgard responded fondly, patting his hand lovingly. The velvet carpet must have muffled his footsteps. “Are you ready to go?”

“Mhm!” Andreas skipped at her side as they made their way out of the bedroom hallways and into the gardens. He stopped and bowed for a moment; Edelgard followed her brother’s gaze and saw who he was paying respect to.

“Hubert,” Edelgard greeted, and curtsied partially. Hubert bowed deeply in response. “Please, Hubert. You needn’t treat me with such respect.”

“But, my lady—”

“Have you greeted your mother?” Hubert nodded, and Edelgard smiled. “I am glad.”

“Hubert!” Lycaon called as he rounded the corner, and then spotted them. “Oh, my apologies. Was I interrupting?”

“No, not at all.” Edelgard got up onto her tiptoes to hug her oldest brother. “We’ll be going now.” Andreas leaned up to give Lycaon a hug as well before following Edelgard outside of the garden.

“...I wish Hubert had a better relationship with his father,” Andreas murmured. Edelgard nodded.

“I told the very same thing to Mother this morning,” she admitted, her own heart throbbing as she turned to look over her shoulder at Lycaon and his retainer. Something about Hubert had always struck her as off. She felt as though she could trust him with anything, and he seemed to feel inclined to help her any which way he could.

It simply made no sense. Hubert was her brother’s retainer, not hers. Edelgard sighed, rubbing her forehead.

“Ah, Edelgard? Is that you? Oh, my… I thought Patricia was simply performing a magic trick on me!” Edelgard’s eyes shot upwards, and she curtsied when she saw Marquess Vestra walking towards her. “Oh, please, you needn’t curtsy!”

Patricia was hiding a laugh behind her hand when Edelgard straightened. “Please, Marquess Vestra. I am not _that_ rowdy.”

“I disagree,” Angelika said from behind Patricia, and Edelgard smiled. Her older sister always had been the sassy, back-talking kind. “You are quite rowdy, Pat.”

Marquess Vestra covered a laugh with her hand. “Well, it was very nice seeing you again, Edelgard. Which way should we go from here, Angelika?”

“This way!” Angelika led Marquess Vestra away, and Edelgard raised an eyebrow at her sister.

“Aren’t you supposed to go with her? And where’s Mother?”

“I’ll be in a minute, just give me a second.” Patricia plucked a bold red rose from a nearby bush and took up Edelgard’s braid. “Mother is at the table, setting up. Lady Augustine and Louisa are with her.” Saying that, Patricia wove the rose into the bottom of her braid. “There. Have fun, El. You too, Andreas.”

“We will!” Andreas promised, and leaned up to kiss Patricia cheek. Patricia’s red lips curled up into a smile, and she waved before hurrying after Marquess Vestra. Edelgard watched her sister leave, a fond feeling tugging at her heartstrings.

Oh, what Edelgard wouldn’t give to keep her life like this.

Edelgard shook her head, pulling herself out of her reverie and stretching out her hand for Andreas to take.

“Let’s go.”

~ / . / . / ~

“Patty, get behind the pillars! I can see you from here!” Edelgard called, and just smiled when her sister instead peeked her head out from behind the castle entrance.

“Yeah, well, how about you try hiding?” Patricia stuck her tongue out, and then yelped when Paul grabbed her by the shoulder and hid her behind the pillars again. Edelgard hid a laugh behind her hand and turned back to Andreas.

“Excited, are you?” she asked once she spied the eager light in his eyes.

“Of course! We haven’t seen her ever since the last Lone Moon!” Andreas pointed out, and Edelgard smiled.

“Yes, you have a point… she’s been gone for over a year now.” Edelgard reached up to smooth out her hair, tightening her ribbons. Catriona’s absence had become something Edelgard accepted, but something she accepted did not mean it was something she had become accustomed to. “I must admit, I am also excited to see her as well.”

As if on cue, a carriage pulls through the large entrance gates of the castle. Edelgard straightened and placed a placating hand on Andreas’s arm. He just shifted his arm to hold her hand, squeezing excitedly. She squeezed back.

The carriage came to a stop just before them, and the carriage driver dismounted before opening the door. An unfamiliar man wearing a suit and a vest—Catriona’s butler, judging based on looks—helped her out of the carriage.

“Catriona!” Andreas cried, and threw himself at his older sister. Catriona laughed, catching him before stumbling.

“Goddess, you’ve grown! Look at you!” When he didn’t let go, she laughed again. “Andreas, I can’t carry you much longer!”

Andreas dropped back down to the ground, but didn’t let go of Catriona. Catriona laughed, looking up and extending her arm out.

“Come here, El.”

Edelgard gladly joined the hug, smiling as her sister pulled her closer. Goddess, how she missed her sister. Catriona had been such an omnipotent presence in her early life, Edelgard wasn’t even sure how she had survived these last few years without Catriona.

“Look at you both,” Catriona murmured, smiling. “All grown up. My baby siblings, all grown up.”

“And happy belated twenty-second birthday to you too,” Edelgard replied, earning a playful swat to the head from Catriona. Andreas laughed, but it was cut off quickly when another set of quickly approaching horse hooves. A second carriage came to a stop behind Catriona’s, drawing both Edelgard’s and Andreas’s attention.

“Manfred?” Edelgard knew he would be coming, but she didn’t know he would be arriving this early in the day.

Catriona scrunched up her face in a very unnoble-like manner that made Edelgard laugh. Goddess, Edelgard would never forget how much she had missed her older sister. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Where is Father?” Manfred demanded as soon as he dismounted from the carriage and saw Edelgard and Andreas. “And stop that. You should know better than to show such… intimate displays of affection out of the eye of the public.”

“I wonder if he knows what sex is,” Andreas muttered, making Edelgard burst into a fit of laughter that was most definitely not fit for the eye of the public. Manfred frowned, although his face always made him look like he was frowning.

“What is so funny?”

“Father is in the throne room,” Edelgard replied, diverting Manfred’s attention so that she didn’t have to answer his question. “I believe he’s speaking with a messenger from Garreg Mach Monastery.” She watched her brother stalk off before rolling her eyes.

“Still as stuck-up as ever,” Catriona sighed, and then hugged both of her siblings tighter. Edelgard held them closer, silence prevailing until Andreas yelpe and Edelgard glanced down to see Catriona tickling him.

“Cat! No!” Andreas burst out into laughter, trying to push away her hand. Catriona laughed alongside him, already pulling him towards the castle entrance.

“Show me everything you’ve done to decorate this palace! And don’t leave a single detail out!”

Edelgard watched them fondly, took in the way Andreas laughed and Catriona teased and how their six other siblings immediately ambushed her as soon as she passed through the gates. She heard Catriona wheezing fondly, and Lycaon patting her on the back with an apologetic look in his eyes.

“If only this moment could last forever…” she whispered underneath her breath unconsciously.

Edelgard was unsure where the sentiment had come from, but she held tight to it as she hurried towards her siblings; they were congregating, welcoming Catriona back.

If only this moment could last forever, indeed.

~ / . / . / ~

Edelgard raised her hand, rapping against the door to the throne room.

“El?” Her father called.

“It is I, Father.”

“Come in.”

Edelgard pushed open the doors and approached the throne, curtsying. “You wished to see me?”

“_I_ did,” Manfred spoke up from where he was standing beside the throne. She stifled the urge to roll her eyes. Manfred had been back for less than a week, and he had already begun to act as though he ruled the Empire. “Where is Paul?”

“Right here.” Edelgard turned to see her second oldest brother walking towards them, stopping beside Edelgard so he could bow to Ionius. “Father. Manfred.”

“El.” She raised her eyes to look at her father. “I have called you here because Manfred has made… quite the negotiation.” Confusion rushed through her veins. What was that supposed to mean? “Paul. I would like you to sit in on this discussion. It would be… beneficial for you to advise in place of Lycaon.”

“As you wish, Father.” Paul bowed. Ionius glanced over at Manfred and nodded, an unreadable expression in his eyes. Try as she might, Edelgard had no clue on what might be happening.

“To put it bluntly,” Manfred started, turning Edelgard’s attention towards him, “there has been a proposal from the Count Rowe of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus: a marriage between Prince Dimitri and one of the daughters from the imperial family.”

“Prince… Dimitri…” Edelgard repeated, trance-like.

He had made a trip down to Enbarr recently, just before he was scheduled to attend the Officers’ Academy. Lycaon and Paul had accompanied him throughout the day but she had spoken to him after supper, and then the next day when they had encountered each other on their morning walks. He was a nice young man: polite, well-behaved, and chivalrous. But now—

“Of House Blaiddyd,” Manfred added, as though she didn’t know who Prince Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd was.

It was not hard for Edelgard to put the pieces together.

“...You wish for me to marry him.” The words tumbled out of her mouth unconsciously. It took her a moment to fully realize the gravity of the situation she had been put in.

“Yes.”

“Why not anyone else?” she asked. “Angelika, for instance, or even Patricia.”

Paul cleared his throat. “She brings up a good point, Manfred.”

“Edelgard and Prince Dimitri are the same age. Additionally, Edelgard is the only one of our family who bears the Crest of Seiros.” Manfred turned to look over at her, his eyes harsh. “There is a reason you have never been betrothed to anyone until now, Edelgard.”

“For my Crest?” she snarled. Paul laid a placating hand on his sister’s arm. Edelgard took a deep breath to compose herself for a moment before continuing, trying to construct an argument that would get her out of this (why was she so hesitant? Why was she so—). “...Manfred, you must consider the consequences of this. The bloodline of the Seiros family—”

“Yes, I know. But House Riegan has produced many heirs with the Crest of Blaiddyd. The royal family of Faerghus itself has born offspring with a multitude of Crests. So have we. You must know that only members of immediate family may claim heritage.”

Manfred’s argument held more ground than hers, and she knew that. She lowered her gaze to her feet, an unfamiliar feeling—shame, she pinpointed after a moment—churning in her stomach. Mercifully, Paul spoke up again.

“As with all marriage proposals we receive, it is your decision.” Paul brought his hand up to Edelgard’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. “Take some time. Think about it.”

“...Very well.” Edelgard curtsied, her head swimming. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Somehow, she managed to walk out of the throne room without collapsing, but couldn’t help taking a seat beneath the gazebo within the royal gardens to take a breath and contemplate the situation she was in.

Married. If she consented… she would be married. Catriona was married and Wolfgang was betrothed, but that was one thing. They were both older, were both wiser. They had been prepared for the life of an imperial heir. By the time Patricia and Edelgard had been born, there had been eight children standing between them and the throne. There had been no need to train them in the traditional royal upbringings of an imperial heir. Even when Edelgard’s Crest had manifested, she was still taught nothing other than the basic etiquette of the aristocracy. Would she be ready for marriage? Would she be ready for anything that could happen within the marriage?

But she had still managed to lead their family and take on much more than she had been intended to take on, so why in the goddess’s name was she so hesitant to—

And some ironic, terrible part of her remembered the promise she had made to her mother only a few days ago to stay with her.

She laughed bitterly, and sighed. “Oh… what am I to do?”

~ / . / . / ~

Edelgard sighed, taking a sip of bergamot. Catriona and Andreas watch her, clearly waiting for her to say something about why they were both out here in the gardens having a tea party at this time of day.

Finally, Edelgard set down her tea cup and met their inquisitive gazes. “...I’m getting married, if I consent to it.” Her fingers instinctively traced the flower design drawn over the teacup.

“To who?” Andreas blurted out immediately. His eyes shimmered—after a moment, she realized with a start that they were tears.

“Prince Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd.”

“Of Faerghus?” Catriona asked, raising an eyebrow. Edelgard just nodded and took another sip of tea. “Really?”

“Really,” Edelgard repeated dully, heaving out another sigh before setting down her teacup. A soft sniffle made her attention turn to her younger brother, and she reached her hand out to rest it on top of Andreas’s. “Why are you crying?”

“Because—because you’re going to leave us!” Andreas’s hand tightened around hers, and he stared up at her with watering eyes. “I—I don’t want you to leave!”

“I don’t either,” Edelgard admitted softly, and her heart felt like it was being shattered to pieces when Andreas raised a hand to wipe away his tears hurriedly. “Father said it was my decision. If I want to, I may deny the proposal. But… I’m not sure. I may accept it.”

“Why?” Andreas implored. “Is it really that important that you accept? Why not anyone else? Surely the Prince of Faerghus has so many other potential partners!”

“You can never assume that, Andreas,” Catriona responded coolly. “And, although it may hurt Edelgard to hear this, she doesn’t have many options either. Not many people can offer something in exchange for an imperial daughter bearing the Crest of Seiros. Politically… it would make perfect sense to accept.”

“But—”

“I’m not saying she should,” Catriona continued, shaking her head. “I… still don’t think Edelgard should accept, considering…” her sister trailed off then, heaving a great sigh. “But… it was inevitable.”

Edelgard couldn’t help casting a glance at her sister’s hand. Underneath the soft sunlight, Catriona’s ring glimmered, red and bold like a wild rose among a dried out field.

Edelgard could still remember that fateful day Catriona had made her decision. Manfred had already begun his diplomatic duties in the Kingdom, and Maximilian had already been making plans to move into Garreg Mach Monastery as a priest. She had no one left to save her.

And so Catriona had given up her life of luxury living in the capital as Lycaon’s advisor to become Lord Nuvelle’s wife. A week later a part of Edelgard’s world had left in a white dress, holding freshly-picked roses.

From then on, the account had been unclear. One thing, however, had been very clear: there’d been something about their marriage that was not what either of them had expected. Lord Nuvelle had expected her to be subservient and demure. She was… not.

Edelgard had been thirteen then. Even if parts of the story had been withheld from her, it was not hard to decipher exactly what had happened.

The fall of House Nuvelle to the combined forces of Dagda and Brigid in Imperial Year 1175 had been the last straw. Catriona’s marriage had been annulled, and with her husband now dead she was quickly rushed back.

Edelgard’s eyes turned up to look at her older sister’s face. “What… do you think?”

Catriona tilted her head as Andreas also glanced over at her, and some emotion Edelgard couldn’t quite place blossomed in Catriona’s eyes.

“It’s not as though I don’t wish to marry,” Edelgard started, and then cut herself off. Catriona watched her with careful eyes, taking a sip of tea. “I… simply wanted your opinion. Your pure, honest opinion, considering both sides of the issue.”

“Well, it’s a very rare opportunity and it certainly would benefit us immensely.” Catriona paused, and then shook her head. “You should know that if you’re only asking me to hear me say that you should marry him, that’s not what you’re going to get.”

“Catriona,” Edelgard said, sighing. “I meant it when I said I simply wanted your opinion.”

Catriona grimaced. “As long as you’re aware.” A tension-laden pause followed her sister’s words, and Edelgard’s hands tightened around her teacup. Andreas’s eyes, as bright as the springtime sun, flitted between both of them worriedly.

“I know it’s hard for you to speak on such matters unbiased,” Edelgard began, “but I… I really do want to know, Catriona.”

“I know,” Catriona murmured, and nodded. “I know. It’s just… hard. No matter what Jeritza tells me, it is… hard for me to accept.”

Her second marriage to Viscount Jeritza von Hrym had not “cured” her sister despite what some nobles had assumed. Edelgard had a suspicion that Catriona would never return back to the headstrong and bold woman she had once been.

“But I know that not all men are like Lord Nuvelle. We have all met Prince Dimitri before, haven’t we?” Catriona turned to Andreas, who nodded earnestly. “He was an earnest young man. He would make a good husband, I think.”

“I’ve never really told this to either of you,” she continued, “but Jeritza is more my best friend than he is my husband. We’re not afraid to speak the truth to each other. I’ll be honest, El. I don’t know if you’ll love him or not. I can’t tell you that. What I can tell you is that you must look for a good life. Will you have a good life, even if you are with him? Will you be able to do everything you’ve ever wanted, even while being his wife?”

“That… I don’t know.”

“When you can answer that question, you will have your answer—at least, to whether you should at the very least even consider marrying him.” Catriona took a sip of tea. The wind blew a rose petal into her hair, and Catriona untangled it easily. She pressed it into Edelgard’s hand with a smile, who turned it over before letting the wind sweep it away again. 

“...I see.”

~ / . / . / ~

Edelgard turned Catriona’s words over in her head, sighing.

“...A good life…” she whispered under her breath, drawing her blankets up to her chest. She sighed and turned onto her side. “A good… life…”

“Good night, El,” Patricia called, blowing out the candle between her and Edelgard’s bed. “Good night, Mother.”

“Good night, Pat. Good night, El,” Lady Anselma responded, and Edelgard turned so that her back was facing the wall. Lady Anselma leaned down, kissing Patricia on the cheek first before leaning over to kiss Edelgard on the forehead. Edelgard smiled, savoring the warmth that her mother’s affection left in her heart.

This would always be her life, regardless of whether she refused or accepted. Her new husband would not give her life, he would simply give her a good life.

But could she really, in good conscience, refuse this offer when she knew that if she did simply another part of her family would be torn apart in her place? She knew her brother. He’d only just extend the offer to Angelika, and then maybe even Patricia. Andreas would be even more devastated, to have his only remaining family member—the only one wholly and truly a part of his family—leave. Her mother would be devastated.

And goddess, Edelgard herself would feel so guilty.

This was her duty. She had the power to decide her life, but this? This was her duty. She could not run from it.

“...Good night, Pat. Good night, Mother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Wild Roses” by OMAM is the official theme song for this fic sorry you don’t make the rules, I do


	2. I Followed the Feeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Ideas: Guess :) where :) ya :) girl :) has :) been!! If you guessed writing college apps, you’d be right!!!!! Murder me!!!!!!!!

Dimitri blinked awake, sighing when he saw the sunlight filtering in through his not-so-thick blue curtains. It was time to wake up.

He didn’t want to wake up.

Dimitri sighed and pushed himself up onto his elbows, rubbing his eyes before sitting up. He had dreamt a strange dream last night, of mysterious armored figures within a vast tomb illuminated in green and of a mask, red and white and crushed beneath his foot. He’d never seen either of those things before. He wondered where they’d come from.

He sat there for a moment, surveying his room as he attempted to figure out what had to be done today. He wasn’t on duty today, was he? He was supposed to clean the stables starting tomorrow…? Yes, that was right. That left today as a free day; last week Professor Seteth had him running all sorts of errands and attending all sorts of things. In return, Dimitri had been promised a day of peace.

He sighed, standing up off of the bed. He really did need today off. Professor Seteth had not been kind enough to administer an exam on Tuesday rather than Monday. Dimitri supposed he could use today to study, although he also wanted to practice his horseback riding.

Hm. The more he reflected on his free day, the more he realized that he really didn’t have much to do today. Finally, some peace and—

“Your Highness!” The question was accompanied by a loud knock on his door, and Dimitri groaned. He had spoken too soon.

“I’ll be right there, Sylvain.”

Hurriedly, Dimitri picked out a fresh tunic and pants from his dresser and pulled them on. He opened the door, unsurprised to find Sylvain fully dressed and ready to venture out. Dimitri never would have guessed that Professor Seteth had kept Sylvain up with a fierce lecture last night.

“What is it, Sylvain?” Dimitri ran his fingers haphazardly through his hair, frowning when Sylvain reached out to comb his hair for him. “Sylvain.”

“You’re welcome,” Sylvain replied, grinning before letting his hands fall away from Dimitri’s hair; Sylvain ended up tucking his hands into his pockets. “What? Were you disappointed to see me?”

“Of course not.” Dimitri frowned at the implication behind Sylvain’s words, shaking his head. “I was just startled. How late did Professor Seteth keep you up?”

“Oh, midnight, maybe? It wasn’t too late,” Sylvain responded flippantly, and then laughed. The surprise DImitri had been trying to suppress must have slipped onto his face. “Midnight isn’t that late, Dimitri!”

“No, I just… Professor Seteth really kept you up past curfew? Professor Seteth, of all people?”

Sylvain let out such a boisterous laugh that Dimitri had to shush him out of fear that Sylvain would wake everyone up, and even then Sylvain was doubling over, muffling his laughs behind his hand. “Your Highness! You can’t just talk about your professor like that!”

“Everyone does it. _Especially_ regarding Professor Seteth.” That just made Sylvain laugh more. “Don’t laugh. I’ve heard you speak about the professor like that first-hand.”

“Guilty as charged, I suppose.” Sylvain grinned. “Anyways! Ing and Felix aren’t around so we can’t do our normal training, so I was wondering… maybe we should go into town? Grab them something nice?”

“Is this so you can hit on more girls?”

“No!” At Dimitri’s doubtful glance, Sylvain sighed and rubbed the back of his head. “Okay, I promise I wasn’t thinking about it until you brought it up. I was being serious, Your Highness. Besides, it’s almost the end of the moon. Our mission is next week. Why don’t we loosen up a little?”

Dimitri considered Sylvain’s words, crossing his arms before letting out a sigh of resignation. “Well, I suppose I would be lying if I told you I didn’t want to go.”

“Great! I’ll meet you in the entrance hall, then!” Before Dimitri could respond Sylvain had already zipped off, giddy with joy. Dimitri watched him go before he sighed, shaking his head, and returned to his room.

Now with plans for the morning at least, Dimitri hurriedly dressed himself. He ran his hands through his hair and glanced at himself in the mirror, making sure he looked presentable in his blue head-of-the-house uniform at the very least before leaving.

“Good morning, Your Highness!” Hilda greeted from down the hallway as Dimitri made his way out. “I heard your plans from Sylvain. Have fun!”

“Good morning. I hope you have a good day.” Dimitri smiled and waved before he headed down the stairs. He took in a deep breath as soon as he stepped outside of the dormitories, staring up at the bright blue sky above them. The crisp air outside cleared part of the drowsiness from his mind, and he took in another breath before he stepped forward.

Dimitri greeted Lorenz, who was in the greenhouse, and waved when he saw Linhardt nodding off beside a nearby flower bed. It was a peaceful sight, and the tranquility of it all made Dimitri smile. It was hard not to feel grateful for the peace they lived in; in history lectures, Professor Seteth was teaching them about Fódlan’s history. Although Dimitri had learnt it quite extensively through his tutoring, it was always interesting to review history from a different perspective.

He made his way past the dormitories, waving and greeting others. He was a little startled when, out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dedue and Sylvain speaking. Sylvain had said he would be waiting in the entrance hall, hadn’t he?

Sylvain turned his attention towards Dimitri and waved him over. Dedue turned his gaze over his shoulder, bowing when he saw Dimitri.

“Is something the matter?” Dimitri asked, directing the question towards Sylvain, but it was Dedue who answered.

“The professor simply wished for me to inform you of a few things.”

“Oh?” Dimitri raised his eyebrows, indicating for his retainer to continue speaking.

“Ingrid and Felix will be returning today from Fraldarius territory. Professor Seteth has called upon Mercedes and Annette to attend the Choir Festival today, so they will be unavailable this morning. Additionally, Ashe is on cooking duty today for the evening meal. That is all.”

“Understood. Thank you.” He paused, glancing over at Sylvain with a meaningful look before turning his attention back to his retainer. “Sylvain and I were planning to go out into town today—at least, for the morning. You don’t need to accompany us.”

“Of course, Your Highness. Will you be having your morning meal there as well?”

“Yes, although I doubt I’ll hear the end of it from my father,” Dimitri laughed, and Dedue smiled. “I shall see you later then, Dedue.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Dedue bowed and Dimitri turned to follow after Sylvain, who had already walked away with his hands tucked behind his head and a grin on his lips.

Their morning passed quickly between the bustling streets of the town, the fragrant smell of street food, and Sylvain trying to flirt with every girl he came across. Dimitri had just about had it with his childhood friend by the time noon rolled around, and practically dragged Sylvain out of the marketplace. Thank goodness for Ingrid’s lessons on how to stand firm with Sylvain when they were all children.

“For the goddess’s sake, Sylvain, must you insist on being such a—a—” Yet, Dimitri found himself so flustered and unable to speak that Sylvain had to speak up again.

“Really, Your Highness, I don’t know why you’re so worried about this. At least I don’t spend all night wandering around, flirting around.”

“Except you do!” Dimitri turned on him, frowning as he crossed his arms. “Sylvain, really. You can’t keep this up. Wandering late into the night trying to talk with girls, and—”

“I thought this was Ingrid’s job,” Felix interrupted, approaching the two of them. “What did you do this time, Sylvain?”

“Nothing!”

“I don’t know if I can believe that.” Still, there was a knowing smile on his lips. “I was wondering where you were. Come on. You’re late for our spar.”

“Oh, it’s already time? Sorry, Your Highness, but I promised Felie here a spar.”

“I told you not to call me that.” Felix swatted at Sylvain’s shoulder with a good-natured laugh. “Come on. You wouldn’t want to keep Ingrid waiting, either.”

“Oh, Ing is joining us? Why didn’t you say so?” Sylvain grabbed Felix’s wrist and yanked him away, hurrying off to the training grounds. Felix turned over his shoulder to wave at Dimitri before he weaseled his wrist out of Sylvain’s grip and continued walking at his side. Dimitri watched them go with a warm feeling in his heart.

The sky was still blue overhead. He turned away, leaving to go tend to the horses in the stable. Even if he wasn’t on stable duty, it still made for a fun hobby at times. After all, he’d been able to grow closer with the blue-haired girl from the Golden Deer House—Marianne, wasn’t it? They’d never properly introduced themselves to each other; most of their time was spent in silence tending to the horses.

“...Your Highness,” Marianne greeted in a soft voice and a small nod when he arrived at the stables. Dimitri smiled.

“Good to see you, Marianne,” he replied with a smile, and then he turned his attention to his horse. Professor Seteth had put him on the Cavalier path, with an end goal of Holy Knight, although Dimitri did want to ask the Professor about possible transferring his classwork and studies towards taking the Lord certification exam. He had to be prepared to ascend to the throne at any time, even if his heart hurt at the mere thought.

Dimitri took up the brush hanging on the side of the stable and began to brush his horse’s mane. He could feel Marianne’s gaze on him, but could also feel… some other kind of presence. When he looked down, that creeping feeling in his gut suddenly made sense.

“Claude, what in the world are you doing in my horse’s stable?”

“Look, Your Highness. Sometimes, you have to look at the world from a different angle.” Despite his words, Claude stood up and brushed his pants off before letting himself out. “Oh. Hey, Marianne.”

“Um… hello, Claude…”

“Mind if I sit next to you? It’s okay to say yes.”

“No… I don’t mind. You’re… a friend, Claude… so… no.”

Claude didn’t say anything, but Dimitri could see—out of the corner of his eyes—the glowing smile lighting up Claude’s face as he took a seat next to Marianne on the nearby bench. Dimitri continued to brush his horse’s mane, listening into the small talk Claude struck up with Marianne every now and then. A sense of peace settled over the trio, and Dimitri couldn’t help the smile creeping onto his lips.

He hung his brush back up onto the side of the stable, turning and leaning down to grab a handful of grains and offering it to his mount. In a moment like this, so peaceful and calm, he couldn’t help taking a moment to reflect on everything.

How fortunate they were, to live in a time like this—with blue skies and mock battles.

~ / . / . / ~

“Dimitri.”

Dimitri’s head snapped up as he was collecting his papers to leave class. “Is something the matter, Professor?”

“There is a man by the name of Count Rowe looking for you. He is in the Knights’ Hall, last I heard from the Archbishop. That is all.” Professor Seteth nodded and left the classroom. Dimitri blinked, frowning. Count Rowe? What could Count Rowe want with him? Unless he had been sent on behalf of Dimitri’s father to inquire his opinion in a political issue, Count Rowe wouldn’t have a reason to be here. And frankly, Dimitri had no clue what sort of political issue that his father would want him to give his input on. Dimitri hadn’t heard anything of the sort recently.

Still, Count Rowe had made the trip down from his territory to come visit Dimitri. He wasn’t going to turn the count away.

Dimitri picked up his books and papers, all collected in a neat pile, and headed out from the classrooms. He took a moment to stop by his dormitory and drop off his materials before heading out to the knights’ hall, his head still spinning and grasping at some wild idea as to why Count Rowe was here.

Deep, deep down, there was something unsettling in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t know what was going to happen, but it was something that was going to change the course of history. 

He ignored it. He’d find out soon enough.

And with that resolution in mind, Dimitri walked down the stone pathway and entered the Knights’ Hall. It was not hard to spot Count Rowe—a grizzled old man, dressed in the white and blue armor reminiscent of a Faerghus troop. Commander Catherine and Lady Shamir, who had been speaking with him, noticed Dimitri’s arrival and quietly excused themselves. Count Rowe turned to watch them leave, and then immediately bowed as Dimitri stepped forward.

DImitri, in turn, bowed slightly—smiling. “Count Rowe. What a pleasant surprise.”

“It is my honor, Your Highness,” Count Rowe replied, still bent over at the hip.

“Please, rise.”

At Dimitri’s command, the count obeyed. “I bear news. A message, on behalf of His Majesty King Lambert and the Emperor of Adrestia.”

Dimitri’s eyes widened but he forced himself to maintain his cool and collected facade. What could the Emperor of Adrestia want with Dimitri that his father, King Lambert, could not give? “Please, speak,” Dimitri managed to say despite the flurry of thoughts going through his mind.

“I have been in contact with His Highness, Prince Manfred of the Adrestian Empire. On behalf of the royal family, he has proposed a marriage.”

Dimitri knew this was coming. He had been lucky to avoid an arranged marriage like this for this long. “To who?” Dimitri asked, maintaining a calm persona.

“Princess Edelgard von Hresvelg. The ninth child in line for the throne, the daughter of Lady Anselma von Hresvelg.”

Dimitri was silent for a moment, mulling on Count Rowe’s words. Princess Edelgard von Hresvelg… he had met her before—briefly, albeit—a few moons ago during his visit to Enbarr. She’d been kind and proper, but every noblewoman was raised as such.

To be honest, Dimitri didn’t know what to expect from all of this.

Count Rowe, as though sensing Dimitri’s uncertainty, bowed. “His Majesty, your father, has requested your presence back in Fhirdiad to hear your answer, once this moon’s mission has ended. If you would excuse me, Your Highness.”

“Thank you very much, Count Rowe. You are excused. Give your daughter my greetings.”

Thank you for your time, Your Highness. I shall.” Count Rowe straightened and departed the knights’ hall, leaving Dimitri dazed and unsure of what to do.

He was coming of age soon, so the proposal made sense. Once he returned from the monastery, he would be of age to ascend the throne. If his father—goddess forbid—passed, Dimitri would have to take the throne. Being king would make it much harder to find a wife when he had a kingdom to rule, after all.

Dimitri sighed, taking the route down towards the open space of the monastery beside the cemetery. He stood by the stairs and looked over the scenery; he let out another sigh.

“Princess Edelgard von Hresvelg,” he murmured under his breath. He drummed his fingers on his leg, pondering it all. Something uncertain filled his heart, and the more he thought the more confusion filled his mind and soon he was left with a splitting headache. Dimitri ran his hands through his hair. “For the goddess’s sake…”

~ / . / . / ~

Ingrid sighed, resting her cheek against her hand. Dimitri winced. “I’m sorry, Ingrid. I didn’t mean to—”

“No, it’s alright, Your Highness.” Ingrid shook her head. “You did the most reasonable thing you could, coming to me. Please, don’t apologize.” Still, the ring on her finger glimmered almost uncomfortably. Dimitri tried his best not to avert his gaze.

“Still…”

“Really, it’s alright.” Ingrid smiled reassuringly, but Dimitri couldn’t help feeling guilty. The more he looked, the more he wanted to avert his gaze—but he forced himself to keep her gaze, lest she start feeling guilty as well.

“...What do you think?” he asked after a moment, scratching the back of his neck.

“It’s… certainly beneficial.” Ingrid was clearly still considering Dimitri’s words, and Dimitri didn’t say anything for a few minutes—letting her speak up when she saw fit. After a moment, she sighed. “Well, what else can be said about an arranged marriage? It’s beneficial for both parties involved. Love comes second to these kinds of things.”

Dimitri sighed. “I know, Ingrid.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m…”

“How do you feel, Your Highness?”

“...Confused,” he admitted. “I… really don’t know how to go about making this decision. There are so many factors to consider… it can be overwhelming, at times.”

“It can be overwhelming… all the time,” Ingrid corrected gently. Dimitri laughed gently.

“Yes… you’re right.” He took a sip of tea; when he set down his teacup, he couldn’t help but smile. “Ingrid… I’m glad. You and Glenn are a rare case… but to see you both happy warms my heart.”

“Your Highness…” Ingrid flushed slightly, but smiled. “Thank you. Your support means more to us than you could ever imagine.” The smile slowly faded as she poured herself another cup of tea, pursing her lips. “...When is your decision needed?”

“By the end of the moon. I will be returning to Fhirdiad for a few days after our mission.”

“I see.” Ingrid raised the pot of tea, and Dimitri reached out to take it from her. “Please, Your Highness. Let me.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but there was a certain light in her eyes that told him it would be useless. Ingrid never let up when she got like this.

Instead, Dimitri picked up his teacup and placed it between them, watching as she poured the steaming chamomile tea. He took it up once she’d put the teapot down, taking a small sip so as to not burn his tongue. The smell of freshly-baked biscuits wafted through the dining hall, and Ingrid glanced up at the sound of approaching footsteps.

“I’m sorry this took so long!” Mercedes hummed, and laid down a platter of scones and biscuits; after placing the pastries in front of them, she also offered them butter, jam, and knives to spread the condiments.

“Really, Mercedes, you didn’t have to,” Dimitri said, smiling up at her appreciatively. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course. It’s always my pleasure.” Mercedes turned and left the table; Dimitri resisted the urge to take up a fresh pastry immediately. Ingrid, after all, had always had more of an appreciation for food than him. And, as he had expected, Ingrid reached forward with a bright look in her eyes. Only when it came to food did Ingrid forget her formality around him.

They sat in silence, eating and enjoying the food Mercedes had made for them. There was no talk of an arranged marriage, no talk of Glenn, no talk at all. There was just companionship—a warmth in his heart that he knew would only ever stir with the connection of a true friend.

“Regarding the marriage,” Ingrid finally said, breaking the silence between them. “Well… you still have time, Your Highness. Take your time… think about it carefully. After all, it is not only the country’s future, but your future. How can a country have a happy future without a happy king?”

The words were strangely proverbial, but Ingrid had always been a person to enjoy folk tales and legends. Although she had originally resigned herself to a life as a trophy wife, it was clear to everyone from the start that Glenn didn’t intend to treat her that way at all. They’d known each other since they were children, after all.

It had taken Ingrid some time to realize the extent to which Glenn would encourage her dreams. Although everyone deeply sympathized with and understood the position which Count Galatea had been put in, Glenn knew that being a nobleman’s wife would not change Ingrid’s dream.

And the rest of House Fraldarius had done nothing to stop her from chasing it—if anything, Lord Rodrigue and his second son had only encouraged her to do so.

“Consider it carefully, Your Highness. Other than that… it is your choice. I would not dare to make it for you.”

“Your words are more than enough for me, Ingrid,” Dimitri reassured with a smile. “Thank you. I needed it. My head has been full of this since… well, since I got the news two days ago.”

“Professor Seteth was saying something similar. I’m glad you were willing to speak with—”

A blur of navy blue stopped Ingrid from speaking and caught Dimitri’s attention; before either of them could realize what was happening, Felix was sitting at the meal table beside Ingrid. He frowned slightly at the intricate display of pastries before them—he never had been a fan of sweets—and instead turned to Ingrid, enveloping her in a hug.

“What happened now, Felix?” Ingrid asked in an exasperated voice, but she hugged him back with a soft smile.

“Glenn said he missed you,” Felix responded, his voice muffled against Ingrid’s shoulder. She laughed softly and reached up to pat the back of his shoulder.

“I’m sure he didn’t actually say it… but I appreciate the sentiment.” Only the goddess knew how much Glenn felt that he didn’t say. Ingrid patted his back and smiled.

“Felix—ah, Ing! Your Highness!” Sylvain’s hand rested on Dimitri’s shoulder, patting it gently as Sylvain slipped into the seat beside Dimitri. “Having a nice spot of tea?”

“Yes, because you weren’t here,” Ingrid quipped, and Sylvain sighed.

“Every day, you become more and more like your husband…”

“You seem to forget that I’ve always been harsher on you.”

“And there’s a good reason for it,” Felix piped up, leaving Sylvain with a mockingly wounded look on his face before he laughed.

They settled into a comfortable conversation, pouring tea for each other (although no one would let Dimitri pour their cup of tea for them) and eating pastries (except for Felix, though). Every now and then they exchanged conversation, but they sat in silence—enjoying each other’s presence.

~ / . / . / ~

“Good work, everyone!” Dimitri smiled, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. When he pulled it away, there was a sheen of sweat on his hand; he frowned. He really should have brought along a towel.

“Ah… Dimitri? Here.” He turned to see Mercedes offering him a hand-towel.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. I don’t have much use for it.”

“Thank you, Mercedes.” Dimitri smiled gratefully and took the hand-towel, wiping his face and his hands. He turned to observe the battlefield; once pristinely lined with soldiers of the church in a battleground simulation, it was now caked in turned-up mud and launched arrows.

“Your Highness!” A familiar voice called in the distance, breaking his reverie; Dimitri’s gaze snapped up to look out at the horizon, where the voice had come from. Not long after he spotted the figure did he break into a smile.

“Glenn!” Felix appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and could barely wait for his brother to dismount before Felix threw his arms around his brother. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to escort His Highness home,” Glenn replied. “You had better be behaving, Felix, lest you wish for me to cut you down.” Despite Glenn’s words, there was an affectionate glow in his eyes.

“Of course I am,” Felix scoffed, but smiled and drew away from his brother. Glenn turned his attention to Dimitri and bowed, hand over his heart. “My lord.”

“You know you don’t have to speak to me like that, Glenn.”

“As your sworn knight, you know I must,” Glenn responded somberly, although there was a mischievous glow in his eyes. “Are you ready to go, Your Highness?”

“Give me a moment,” Dimitri requested, and turned to see his classmates gathered around him. “I’m sure you all can infer it, but I will be returning to Fhirdiad for the next couple of days. There is some business I must take care of. It won’t take me long. I expect you all to listen and do as Professor Seteth requests.” Dimitri nodded to the professor, who was standing at the back of the crowd.

“Safe travels!” Annette bid cheerfully as Glenn helped Dimitri mount a spare horse the Knights of Faerghus had brought along.

“Come back soon!” Sylvain joked, waving at Dimitri. Dimitri chuckled and made to snap the reins of his horse and get going, but Glenn still had not mounted back onto his steed. Even without listening into their conversation, he already knew why.

“You’ll come visit soon, won’t you?” Ingrid whispered, staring up at Glenn.

“Of course,” he murmured. “I have to bring His Highness back, after all. He won’t find his own way back.” Glenn glanced down at her for a moment before he smiled. “I’ll see you then, Ingrid. I promise. You just focus on your training.”

“I will. I am.” She reached her hand out tentatively, and Glenn took it. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of Ingrid’s hand before letting go. Ingrid smiled and stepped back, watching as Glenn mounted his own horse.

“Are you ready to go, my lord?” Glenn asked, hands steady on his reins.

“I’m ready when you are, Glenn.” Dimitri followed suit, pulling the reins of his own horse to turn around. Glenn stayed at his side, and the Knights of Faerghus who had accompanied Glenn to Magdred Way fell into position around both of them.

The ride back to Fhirdiad felt like a breath of fresh air. The monastery was beautiful, yes, but nothing would ever be more comforting to him than the familiar scenery of Faerghus. It was his home, after all, and one he still had not explored to the fullest. For time’s sake, they were travelling the quickest route back to Fhirdiad, but if Dimitri could he would take a longer route home. It might have taken a few more hours, but it always showed him a side to his kingdom that he didn’t usually get to see. Lively blue skies and the sun, or silent black skies and the moon.

Even during the daytime he could still see the moon, hovering over him—as though it were watching over him. As a child, and even now, Dimitri had always thought of his mother whenever he saw the moon. Perhaps it was the old folktale that painted the moon as an ethereal maiden who watched over all of Fódlan, or perhaps it was the fact that his mother had passed during the Guardian Moon.

There was just something about the moon that he could not quite pinpoint.

Lost in his thoughts, Dimitri did not realize how quickly they had travelled. In the blink of an eye he was looking up at the towering spire of the Fhirdiad castle was above them; the outer walls of the city stood in front of them.

“Have the people been informed of my return?” Dimitri asked. Glenn shook his head.

“They still believe you are away at the Officer’s Academy. Your Highness will only be returning for a few days, after all. It’s not as though you’re returning to rule the kingdom.”

“I suppose you’re right. I feel bad, though…”

“It’s not as though you have unenrolled from the Officers’ Academy. You will be returning. Save the triumphant entrance for when you graduate and come back.”

At that, Dimitri laughed. “Watch your tongue, Glenn,” Dimitri teased, and snapped the reins to get his horse moving.

Surrounded by the Knights of Fhirdiad and side-by-side with Glenn, Dimitri made his way through the streets towards the castle. He caught the gaze of a few townspeople, and waved reassuringly. Soon, people were crowding the streets just to get a glimpse of him as they walked by.

“I’ll never understand how you do it,” Glenn murmured, and Dimitri held back and unrefined snort; instead, he turned and waved to the townspeople, smiling all the while.

“I was raised a prince, Glenn. I’m used to it, I suppose.”

The townspeople held his attention all the way until they were standing in front of the castle, where a line of Fhirdiad knights blocked off the cobblestone road leading right through the castle gates and into the castle. Dimitri glanced up. His breath caught in his throat.

Standing, waiting for him, in front of the castle gates, was his father.

“Father!” Dimitri gasped as he pulled his mount to a stop, and barely managed to dismount from his horse before Lambert swept Dimitri up in his arms.

“Dimitri,” his father breathed, his arms tightening around Dimitri. “Goddess, has it really only been two moons?”

“It has,” Dimitri laughed. “I missed you, Father.”

“I missed you too, my son.” Lambert set his son down on the ground, drawing back to observe Dimitri’s face before smiling. “I feel as though you’ve grown so much without me. You look more and more like your mother each day.”

“Please, Father,” Dimitri murmured, feeling himself choke up a little bit. He cleared his throat, but his father was already reaching out to embrace his son again.

“It’s alright,” Lambert murmured. “We don’t have to think about that for now. You’re home, my son. Welcome home.”

Dimitri just nodded and rested his head against his father’s shoulder, reveling in the warmth emanating from his father. He knew that inevitably, they would have to speak of those things. But for now… he was safe here, in his father’s arms.

They retreated into the castle, his father’s arm still wrapped around Dimitri’s shoulders. Dimitri had left the monastery early in the morning after breakfast, and had not had a meal since then. When Dimitri had arrived in Fhirdiad after their mission, the moon had begun to illuminate the night sky. Dimitri could not stifle his yawns in the midst of dinner, and Lambert glanced up at him.

“I’m sorry, my son,” Lambert murmured, grimacing.

“No, you don’t need to apologize, Father,” Dimitri hurriedly said, shaking his head. He set down his utensils for a moment to wipe his eyes. “I knew it would end up like this, after all.”

“Dimitri…” Lambert sighed, setting down his own utensils. “Surely… you know what I am about to say.”

“...I know. It’s my duty. I know.”

“Not only that, my son. I’m… well, I must admit that I am worried about you, Dimitri. Finding a queen when you are busy with kingly duties… it is not easy. I would know best, my son. Had I not taken a walk on that day at that very moment through that very forest, I doubt I would have ever found myself a queen.”

Dimitri laughed softly, a smile resting on his lips. He had heard this story many times; his father, attempting to escape from the stress and pressure of being king, escaped to the nearby forest for some fresh air. During his walk, he had happened to hear a woman’s soothing voice singing to the forest animals; when he searched, he found an ephemeral woman illuminated by the moonlight. That woman had become the queen, and had been Dimitri’s mother—the mother Dimitri never knew. The mother Dimitri only ever knew as the moon.

“Dimitri… I know it may be hard to imagine, but… as prince, you must think ahead to the future. I only wish that you do not lose your queen consort before it is too late.” Lambert let out a shaky breath, meeting Dimitri’s gaze. “Your mother and I… always wished for you to be more than an only child.”

The admission, so intimate and close to his father’s heart, left Dimitri breathless. “...I shall think about it carefully,” Dimitri murmured, and picked up his utensils again.

Later that night, as he sat on his bed staring out the window and peering over the city, he pondered on his father’s words. His father had already done so much for him, had already worried so much about him. For sixteen years after his mother’s death, Dimitri had seen his father slave away. He worked for his country, his people, his future.

No, not his future. Their future. He worked for everyone’s future but his own.

Duty above yourself, Glenn had avowed to him when he had become Dimitri sworn knight. But Glenn was the ideal knight; he loved his wife and still served Dimitri so faithfully. Glenn knew the right time for everything. Glenn knew the right place for everything.

Perhaps, Dimitri could be like that. If not for his country, then for his father.

He fell asleep that night wondering about a girl he had never met before.

~ / . / . / ~

“There has been an update in the marriage,” Lambert informed him over their shared morning meal. “Princess Edelgard has accepted the offer.”

If only for a second, Dimitri couldn’t help wondering why. She didn’t have a duty to adhere to, a lineage to continue, a country to rule. He wondered, not for the first time, if she had given her life up as a sacrifice or as a gift.

“Dimitri? Do you have an answer?”

But that was not his judgement to make. Perhaps, when he met her, he would understand.


	3. The Vines, They Are Breathing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Ideas: I would literally die to make Dimitrigard canon  
@ Dimitri & Hapi supports: why have you ruined me like this. Anyways I’ve gone back and changed Lady Patricia’s name to Anselma, but El’s sister is still named Patricia. You’ll see why. Some minor edits have been made as well, but it’s nothing major—just dialogue changes, grammar, etc.

She had dreaded this day since the moment she knew it was coming.

No. Perhaps “dreaded” was not the right word. It was not something about it that she did unconsciously, but rather a feeling in her. Perhaps… “a feeling of trepidation” was better.

Catriona pulled her hair a little too tight, and Edelgard winced. Catriona paused, her fingers occupied with numerous locks of Edelgard’s hair. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” Edelgard reassured. “You can keep going.”

“Okay.” Catriona began weaving her hair together again, pulling it into a complicated braid that Edelgard knew she could never ever do herself. Yet again, another sign of Edelgard’s inadequacy—a sign of how she hadn’t been raised like Catriona, a sign of how she shouldn’t have been anything more than a princess.

But that didn’t matter. She had to do this for her family. Only she could, after all.

She took a moment to stare at herself in the mirror, all dressed up. They were housing themselves in a manor on the border of Hresvelg territory, about three days’ flight away from Garreg Mach Monastery and two days’ flight away from the imperial castle. The fifteenth of the Garland Moon—the day she was set to meet Prince Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd of the Kingdom of Faerghus for the first time, not as a princess but as his future wife.

Edelgard took in a deep breath and then let out a long sigh, staring at herself in the mirror—dressed in a ballgown of crimson satin and white lace and lined with crinoline. She had picked the dress herself, and yet she still felt out of place in it. She almost never wore dresses this lavish and formal.

But it was necessary for today, at the very least.

“...You’re beautiful,” Catriona murmured with a smile, holding Edelgard’s hair up as she reached out to take the ribbons lying out on the vanity.

“Only because you made me so,” Edelgard responded with a soft smile. Catriona shook her head with a soft sigh.

“You’re always beautiful, El. You know that.” Edelgard held still as Catriona laced up the plaits into a perfect little bun, finishing up the hairstyle by tying up the ribbons into little bows at the end. Catriona pressed Edelgard’s baby hairs down with a gentle hand, smiling.

“El? Are you ready?” Lycaon called, and Catriona smoothed out Edelgard’s plaited bun one last time before finally pulling away. Edelgard turned over her shoulder to look up at her older sister, and smiled when Catriona leaned down to kiss her head.

“...Thank you,” Edelgard whispered. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Catriona replied with a soft smile, “my baby girl.”

“I’m almost of age.”

“You’ll always be my baby girl.” Catriona wrapped her arms around Edelgard, and Edelgard tried her best not to shake and tremble with tears. This was for them.

This was for them.

“El?” Lycaon asked again, knocking on the door.

“Just a moment,” Edelgard replied, and pushed herself to stand up. Catriona helped her up, smiling and brushing Edelgard’s brown hair back one last time before she went to open the door. Edelgard stood there as Lycaon stepped inside, holding back the urge to sit back down and stay there.

“...Are you ready?” Lycaon’s voice was low and soft. “Once you meet him… there’s no turning back.”

“Was there ever any turning back?” Edelgard asked, and sighed when she saw the way Catriona flinched. She looked over at her sister, a reassuring smile on her lips. “I’ll be okay.”

“I know,” Catriona murmured, and stepped forward to open her arms. Edelgard smiled and leaned in to hug her one last time. “You’ll be okay, El… we love you. Never forget that.”

“I won’t.” Edelgard swallowed, forcing herself to hold back tears. Now was not the time. She had to be strong. For them.

Finally, she drew away from Catriona. The loss of her sister’s warmth felt like a dagger to her gut, but she pushed it down—rather, forced it down. Edelgard swallowed and gathered up her skirts with a soft sigh.

“...Let’s go.” She took Lycaon’s extended hand and let him guide her out of the dressing room. When she emerged, she had to purse her lips until she was sure they were white even through her lip rouge.

Lady Anselma, Patricia, and King Ionius were all standing outside—her family. Her father, her mother, her twin sister.

Her **family**.

Edelgard shut her eyes and pursed her lips, taking in a deep breath as she collected herself. Don’t cry. She couldn’t cry, not now. Not ever. Not until she knew that they were safe.

Someone laid a hand on her shoulder, grounding her. She leaned into that touch—so comforting and warm. “We’re here,” her sister murmured with a soft voice, drawing her arm around Edelgard’s shoulders. A wave of relief swept through her, but she clamped down on it. No. She had to be strong.

“...I know,” Edelgard whispered, and opened her eyes. “I’m… I’m alright. I’ll be alright.”

“You’re alright, El,” Patricia agreed, squeezing Edelgard’s arm before Edelgard forced herself to step away from her sister. “We’re right here with you.” Edelgard managed a smile, and turned to look at her family one last time before she had to go greet the man who would be her future husband.

“...I love you all,” Edelgard whispered, and then turned away before she could start tearing up. She felt a hand on the crook of her elbow. From the gentle touch and the calloused skin on the palm, it must have been her father’s.

“Come,” he murmured, and guided her down the hallway. He helped her down the stairs as she gathered her skirts in one hand, and walked alongside her to the embroidered doors leading into the manor’s garden. Edelgard swallowed. How long had it been since her father had walked with her like this—not as an emperor and a princess, but as a father and a daughter?

It had been so long—too long—since then. Perhaps the last time it had happened was her seventeenth birthday, almost a year ago, when he gave her a kiss on the forehead and wished her a happy birthday.

And in half a moon, she would be leaving him.

Edelgard reached up to rest her hand on top of her father’s, smiling slightly when he turned his palm so he could hold her hand and squeeze it reassuringly. One last moment as father and daughter… a final reminder for who she was doing this for.

She swallowed. “...I’m ready,” she murmured, and tried to let go of his hand.

“...Alright.” Her father held tight to her hand; he used his other hand to open one of the doors. Edelgard reached out to open the other one, but he shook his head to stop her. “Let me, my daughter.”

“My daughter”. He had never called her “my daughter” before. Edelgard forced herself to keep holding tight onto his hand and not cry. When he opened the door and stepped outside with her, she found she was unwittingly holding her breath.

Prince Dimitri stood with his back turned to her, conversing with someone who Edelgard was more than certain was the king. Edelgard herself had never seen the king before. Negotiations with the king had only ever been had behind closed doors—either in Adrestia, between the king and her father alone, or in Faerghus, where Manfred served as Adrestia’s ambassador. She had never seen the king, let alone met him.

She supposed that was going to change now. After all, she was to be his future daughter-in-law.

The king turned and bowed slightly to greet Edelgard’s father. “Your Highness,” he greeted. “What a joyous day.”

“It truly is,” her father agreed with a slight bow in response. Edelgard forced herself not to freeze up, and instead held tight to her father’s hand. “My daughter, Princess Edelgard von Hresvelg.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty,” she murmured, curtsying.

“A pleasure to meet you as well, Princess Edelgard,” King Lambert responded, a low rumble in his throat that told her he was chuckling. “Please, rise.” When she did, she saw the man standing at King Lambert’s side and felt her stomach sink instinctively. “My son, Prince Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd.”

“It is an honor, Your Highness,” he said, and bowed deeply. His voice sounded so different than what she had remembered it sounding like. She recalled a bright yet regal voice, and yet speaking now it sounded sonorous and imposing. Had she been wrong to assume that he had done this purely out of the goodness of his heart? Had he some ulterior motive behind it all of this?

“Ah, Prince Dimitri,” her father greeted with a smile. “Truly, the honor should be ours. Please, rise.”

When the prince stood up straight, he caught Edelgard’s gaze for a moment. His eyes, despite being as cold as pieces of ice and as guarded as a suit of armor, drew her in. There was something beneath that gaze that seemed strange.

But before she could try and decipher it, King Lambert spoke up.

“We will be leaving you two now. Come to an understanding… the final decision is both of yours to make.”

Edelgard turned to look at her father, who simply squeezed her hand before letting go of it. “Lycaon requested Hubert be by your side in his stead… if anything happens, he will be here.”

True to her father’s words, when she looked, Hubert was standing in the shadows formed by the walls of the palace lining the garden. Edelgard glanced up at her father, who leaned down to kiss her on the top of her head.

“You’ll be alright, El… my daughter.”

Had he ever said those words to her, she wondered, as she watched her father nod respectfully to Prince Dimitri before he fell in step beside King Lambert. They walked away, side by side, and she couldn’t help noticing how her father walked with a slight limp. How, unlike the king, her father couldn’t stand to his full height. Every observation felt like a dagger to the heart.

“Father,” she breathed softly. When someone approached, she didn’t have to wonder who it was. Her fingers knitted together in worry, and she swallowed softly. “Lycaon… truly asked you to accompany me?”

“He did,” Hubert confirmed in a strikingly soft voice. “For my liege to send me away from him, especially during such a time… he cares much for you, milady.”

Edelgard didn’t say anything, for fear of letting something slip. Lycaon had never been a bad brother, by all accounts. He cared deeply for all of his siblings. As the oldest, it was his duty. Yet, there had always been something disconnected about their relationship that wasn’t there for her other siblings—a chasm, wide and open, and Edelgard knew exactly why.

Her Crest. As the oldest, he was the one set to inherit the Adrestian throne. Of course he would desire the Crest of Seiros, to prove his strength and his heritage. As much as he tried to care for, Edelgard could see that, at times, the jealousy took over.

Perhaps Lycaon truly did care enough for her to send Hubert up to this very manor, two days’ travel time away from him, in order to look over this hour-long meeting. Perhaps Lycaon really did care enough about her to leave behind the negativity of the past.

Perhaps he really, truly did.

A young man with long, navy-blue hair approached Prince Dimitri, bowing deeply to both him and Edelgard. “Sir Glenn Fraldarius, appointed and sworn knight to Prince Dimitri. I will be looking after my liege here today.”

Hubert, in turn, bowed to the two men of Faerghus. “Hubert von Vestra, appointed and sworn retainer to Crown Prince Lycaon von Hresvelg III. I will be looking after milady Princess Edelgard today.”

“...Thank you, Hubert,” Edelgard whispered, nodding and offering him a smile. “And you, Sir Glenn.”

Hubert didn’t say anything else—just slunk into the shadows and stayed there. Poised, and ready to strike at any moment should there be a reason to. Edelgard watched him go before she turned back to Prince Dimitri. Sir Glenn had already left his side, off admiring the nearby shrubs and bushes of blooming flowers.

“...My lord,” she murmured, curtsying deeply. She could hear the rustle of clothing as he bowed back, but she didn’t lift herself until he told her to.

“Please, rise.” When she did, she forced herself to meet his gaze. There was an indecipherable look in his eyes, but it was clear to Edelgard that he was forcing it away in favor of a fake smile and constructed joy. “Princess Edelgard. It’s a joy to see you again.”

“It is a joy to see you again, too, my lord.”

And then there was silence. Uncomfortable and foreign silence, so tense that the air could be cut with a dagger.

Prince Dimitri swallowed and brushed a lock of meticulously-styled hair behind his ear. He, too, had been dressed in his best robes today—a suit of silk and pants of satin, his collar tucked with a cravat. His suit is a deep royal blue, lined with golden embroidery; his cape is a lighter shade of blue, dressed with white fringes. It surely must have been a rare sight to him. Faerghus was so cold, the populace and its royalty often dressed in furs rather than silk or satin.

It was strange, how distant that thought felt. Yet, she knew that in less than a moon’s time, she would be living there—in that strange and distant land she’d only ever heard and read about.

“...It has been a while since we last spoke, hasn’t it?” Prince Dimitri began, in an attempt to break the cold silence. Edelgard nodded curtly at first, and then forced herself to smile.

“It has, milord.”

“Please, just Dimitri is fine.”

“But, milord, I could never—”

“Just Dimitri. Please. If we are to be married… then I ask you to please, address me by my name.”

“...Alright, Dimitri.” The name was foreign on her lips, and she had to think before she said it—“milord” just came more instinctively to her. “Then… you should also address me by my name.”

“Then I shall address you as… Edelgard.” It seemed that he had also encountered the same problem as her. “If it is alright with you.”

“I asked you to address me as such, did I not?” Edelgard asked with a slight smile on her lips. Prince Dimitri smiled back, although the sentiment was not reflected in his eyes when she dared to look up at them. “Just Edelgard is alright.”

“Very well, Edelgard. How have you been since we last met?”

“I have been well. Not much has changed, although I doubt the same can be said for you.”

“Yes… that’s true.” Prince Dimitri laughed softly. “The Officer’s Academy is quite a change in scenery from the royal capital.”

“So I’ve heard… my oldest brother often spoke of how different it was at the monastery.”

As the oldest child, Lycaon had also been the first one of her siblings to attend the Officer’s Academy the year he turned eighteen. Originally, only he had been meant to attend the Officer’s Academy; after all, who else in their family would need to study there? Edelgard’s mother had wanted to send both Edelgard and Patricia there given her own experience at it, but there was no need. They were simply princesses—little pawns in the game of royal politics, not meant to know anything.

Manfred, however, had somehow convinced their father to allow him to attend the Officer’s Academy. Having become a diplomat a year later, no one could really say he hadn’t put that education to use, but it had been strange at the time.

“Yes… it is quite different,” Prince Dimitri agreed, and then fell silent again. Edelgard’s hands fisted into her dress’s skirts, and she swallowed harshly—screwing her courage to its sticking place before she forced herself to speak up.

“...Do you want to do this?” she asked. “Do you want to get married?” She didn’t dare look at him.

“Do you?”

Ah. That was the question she had been dreading the most. “...I do not want to,” she admitted, “but I must.”

“...I see. We are in agreement, then.”

Edelgard tried her best not to stiffen up with anger. Yes, he could be right. Perhaps he did have to marry. But what did he have to marry her for? He was the crown prince of Faerghus, blessed with the Crest of Blaiddyd. He could marry anyone he wanted unlike her, a simple political pawn. He did not have to marry her—not like she did.

“Our fathers shall be handling the legal and logistical sides of the marriage… it seems that all we need to do is prepare ourselves.”

Taking in a deep breath, she held her chin high as she met his expectant gaze. “...I do this for the future of the Adrestian Empire and the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus.”

“...For the future,” Prince Dimitri echoed after a moment. She nodded and forced herself to stretch out her hand. Prince Dimitri stared at it before he hesitantly took it. It was clumsy at first, trying to find the right way to fit her small hand against his (unsurprisingly large—he was almost a full head taller than her, after all), but their hands finally fit together.

Edelgard met his gaze as they shook hands, trying not to let her courageous persona collapse under his watchful eyes. Each second that passed by was like a dagger to each of her weak points.

Finally, as if they could communicate without speaking, their hands fell away from each other. Edelgard hid hers back in the folds of her dress. If Prince Dimitri noticed, he didn’t say anything about it. He just swallowed and pursed his lips before he opened them again to speak.

“...We should go find our fathers.”

“...Yes. We should.”

He offered his hand again. She hesitated at first, and then took it before she began to lead him through the lines of roses and tulips of the royal garden. Walking with his hand in hers, with nothing else to think about, she began to notice the little scrapes and calluses on his skin.

The smile on her father’s face when they found the king and the emperor made her eyes prick with tears and her heart hurt, like a dagger thrust to the heart.

~ / . / . / ~

“My people,” Emperor Ionius began, “today is a joyous day. The twenty-second of the Garland Moon… eighteen years ago, the goddess blessed me with two lovely daughters. And now today, eighteen years later… I am proud to present to you Princesses Edelgard and Patricia von Hresvelg.”

Edelgard smiled as the front doors of the castle squeaked open, waving to the crowd of people standing in front of the castle stairs. Patricia was right in step behind her, laughing and waving alongside Edelgard. A wave of applause and cheers swept through the crowd, and Edelgard couldn’t help the way her smile grew.

Yes, these were her people, the people who cared for her despite not even knowing who she was. These were the people she had grown to love and serve—and serve them she would.

(By leaving them and going to the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus.)

She forced that thought away as she stopped beside her father, turning to face the crowd of people. She smiled at the way people clambered all over themselves to catch a glimpse of her. It was tradition in the Adrestian Empire that other than their names, royal children were not revealed to the public until they were eighteen years of age. This was her first official appearance as the ninth child of the Hresvelg family, the fourth princess in line, and the second child of Anselma von Arundel.

Patricia stopped beside her and turned to look at their father expectantly. Emperor Ionius smiled and cleared his throat.

“It is hard to believe that the goddess would bless our family with twins… but they are here. Even more so… one of them has been blessed with the Crest of Seiros. It truly is a blessing from the goddess. In their eighteen years, they have grown to be beautiful and courageous young women.”

Edelgard pursed her lips, forcing herself not to do anything except smile; she couldn’t show them any weakness. She had to be strong, for their sake.

“And it is on this day that I must make a very important announcement. Edelgard von Hresvelg, bearer of the Crest of Seiros and my ninth child… is engaged to Prince Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, the firstborn son of King Lambert and the crown prince of Faerghus.”

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Her father continued, undeterred.

“The marriage is scheduled to occur on the first day of the Blue Sea Moon, at the royal capital of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, Fhirdiad. Princess Edelgard’s departure will be tomorrow. We invite everyone, regardless of stature, to see her off for this monumental occasion.”

~ / . / . / ~

Dimitri could feel the heavy gazes of the other students, practically physically weighing him down. He tried not to let it get to his head, but he knew the word had gotten out about his engagement—his engagement to Princess Edelgard von Hresvelg.

He forced himself to keep walking, descending the stairs and then smiling when he saw Annette and Mercedes standing outside of their dorm rooms, sharing a conversation. They glanced over and smiled back at him.

“Your Highness! Are you on your way to the dining hall?”

“I am. Would you two like to join me for breakfast?”

“If you don’t mind, we would be glad to join you.”

“Of course I don’t mind, Mercedes. I asked you to, didn’t I?”

Mercedes laughed softly. “Yes, you’re right…” She and Annette fell into step beside Dimitri; as much as the two girls tried to hide the thoughts they were having, Dimitri already knew what it was. Everyone had been saying the same thing all day.

“Who did you hear it from?”

“Ferdinand. He received a letter from his father this morning… the announcement was made two days ago, on Princess Edelgard’s birthday. All the kingdom officials were informed five days ago… that was when his father wrote the letter, Ferdinand said,” Mercedes explained. “I suspect I’ll also be receiving a letter from my brother soon…”

“Speaking of which… Mercie, your brother’s married to one of the princesses, right?”

“That’s right. She’s the first princess of the family, Princess Catriona von Hresvelg… I haven’t met her before, though.”

“You haven’t been back to Adrestia since you left with your mother, correct?” Dimitri questioned. Mercedes nodded.

“I’m afraid I won’t be much help if you have any questions about Adrestian culture… but Constance could help you.”

Dimitri laughed softly, scratching the back of his neck as they walked by the fishing pond and up the stairs to the dining hall. “No, it’s not that… well, perhaps it is. I’m just curious, I suppose. Becoming a part of another royal family is…” he trailed off then, unable to find the words.

“I can’t even begin to imagine how you’re feeling, Your Highness,” Annette said. “And getting married so soon… you’ll be heading back to the capital soon, won’t you?”

“Tomorrow, yes. And I won’t be back until… late next moon.” Dimitri sighed. “I’ll have to spend today just making preparations for my absence… I suppose—”

As soon as the three of them stepped foot into the dining hall, Claude was launching himself onto Dimitri—scrambling to grab him by the shoulders and shake him aggressively. Dimitri reached his hands up to try and stop Claude from making his world spin incoherently.

“Claude, for the goddess’s sake—” Dimitri’s grip fumbled for a moment before he finally managed to pull Claude’s hands off of his shoulders. “What is the matter with you?”

“Is it true?”

“Yes, I’m engaged. What’s the matter with you?”

“What’s the matter!? Are you out of your mind, Dimitri? You’re engaged to an Adrestian princess!”

“Here, we can discuss this over breakfast,” Dimitri proposed, and then turned to grimace slightly at Annette and Mercedes. “My apologies. It seems I won’t be able to take breakfast with you two today.”

“It’s alright!” Annette said with a reassuring smile that made him relax slightly. “We understand. Right, Mercie?”

“Exactly,” Mercedes agreed with a similar smile. “Just come see us before you leave, alright?”

“Of course.” Dimitri watched them go for a moment before he followed Claude over to where he was sitting alone at a table. As he took a seat, he reached over to steal a piece of ham; he laughed at Claude’s offended stare as he ate it. “I have to make do! You don’t seem intent on letting me go have a meal, anyways.”

“Fine, I suppose. Here, have some of my soup. I took too much.” Claude pushed him his bowl of onion gratin soup and handed him a spoon. “It’s clean, don’t worry.”

“Much thanks.” Dimitri took a sip, smiling at the familiar flavors, before he glanced up at Claude. “So? What did you want to ask about?”

“Your engagement! How long have you known?”

“Almost a moon now?”

Claude blinked in surprise, clearly taken aback. Dimitri couldn’t say he blamed him. “That’s… really quick.”

“It is. Even by normal political marriages, it’s quite a quick turnaround. I suppose it wouldn’t surprise you to know that it’s the reason why I’ve been in and out of the monastery this whole moon.”

“No, not a surprise at all now that I know the reason. You’ll still be attending the academy once you get married, won’t you?”

“Yes, I will. There’s also…” Dimitri paused for a moment, debating whether or not he should tell Claude.

It had only been a plan discussed between Edelgard, himself, her father, and his father—after the two of them had met for the first time. He was sure they wouldn’t be pleased if he told Claude von Riegan, of all people. He supposed he’d have to hold off for a little while.

“No, it’s nothing. I’ll tell you another time.” With a smile, Dimitri took another sip of soup. “I will be gone for the better part of the next moon, though.”

“Why’s that? Aren’t you just getting married in Fhirdiad?”

“The nobles from both countries are insisting that we… legitimize the relationship.” It was hard to keep the blush off his face at that statement. As much as it embarrassed him, it was true. Nobles really truly meant nobles—neither of their fathers had wanted such a thing. But the nobles had insisted. Just because they were royalty, that did not mean they were exceptions to the arranged marriage standard.

“Ah. I assume they’ll be leaving you two alone for a few days?”

“Around a week, yes. They’re letting us stay in a cabin, out in the Blaiddyd Forest.” As he started to speak again, he felt a familiar weight on him. Glancing around, he saw who it was. Ferdinand was standing by the dining hall doors that led to the Entrance Hall, staring at Dimitri with a strange expression on his face.

It wasn’t hard to understand why they would feel that way. Ferdinand must have met Princess Edelgard at least once, if not more; Prime Minister Aegir was very close to Emperor Ionius IX, and their familial bonds were deeply intertwined. It was surely strange, knowing that Princess Edelgard was going to be married to an opposing house leader.

Dimitri waved to him regardless. Claude laughed softly when he realized who Dimitri was waving to.

“How awkward.”

“Indeed.”

~ / . / . / ~

“Is something the matter, El?” Angelika asked the moment that Edelgard sat down at the table. “You look like you didn’t sleep well.” Edelgard smiled, but felt forced and surely looked weary and tired to her siblings.

“It’s not much, really. I was just… I had trouble sleeping last night. That’s all.”

“What were you worrying about?” Wolfgang inquired, pouring her a cup of bergamot tea.

“Yes, whatever is the matter?” Louisa piped up. “Perhaps we can help you.”

At her words, Edelgard smiled. There was something both endearing and entertaining about Louisa, their youngest sibling, speaking so formally and upright. Louisa was getting to that age where she was learning etiquette in a formal, tutored process. Switching between a deeply formal attitude and the snarky, sassy little girl she truly was was going to be interesting to watch.

Well, it would be for them. Not her.

That thought went hand in hand with her answer to Wolfgang’s and Louisa’s questions.

“Just about… the marriage.” She accepted the teacup from Wolfgang and took a sip of tea. Then, she dared to look up at her siblings.

There was a soft and loving expression on all of their faces, from understanding to sympathy to reassurance. Edelgard took another sip of tea and found herself looking back up at them instinctively—as if reaching out for their presence and their comfort.

“It’s strange,” she admitted softly after a moment. “It’s just…” and then she trailed off, unsure of whether they would even want to hear her speak or not.

“You can talk about it,” Wolfgang reassured. Angelika nodded with a soft smile. “We’re here to listen, El.”

“...I just don’t know how to feel about it all,” Edelgard admitted softly. “I feel like I should be happy, but I’m not. I’m just not. So, when others come prying about it…” She sighed then, shaking her head. She just couldn’t find the words to describe what it was she was feeling—trepidation, anxiety, anger, frustration, all present and yet not.

Wolfgang smiled, his eyes full of sympathy. “It’s okay.” He reached his hand out hesitantly, and then stroked the back of her head gently. “It’ll be okay, El… we’re right here.”

For now.

But none of them said those words aloud.


	4. The Seasons Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Ideas: Someone please let me be productive  
HAPPY BIRTHDAY EDELGARD of course I would want to publish this on her birthday  
Anyways ya girl is on summer break now so……. NOT MAKING ANY PROMISES b u t mayhaps?? There may be?? More updates??

Somehow, Edelgard felt that every day she met with Prince Dimitri started the same.

Her mother’s fingers threaded through Edelgard’s hair, in the midst of pulling part of it into a tight braid. On the other side of the room, away from the vanity, Patricia and a handmaiden from the Kingdom were helping to prepare her dress.

It had been over a moon since the marriage had been confirmed between the two parties. During that time, the Adrestian seamstresses had been hard at work. Edelgard had been to more fittings in that time period than she had been to in her whole life, rejecting and approving and then again rejecting various parts of her wedding dress.

She spared a glance over at it. She had made it perfect because it had to be perfect. There was no room left for failure now. Everything had to be perfect.

The door creaked open, and Edelgard managed a smile when she saw—through the vanity mirror—Catriona slipping into the room. Her hands were full, so much so that Paul, who entered the room after her, had to shut the door for her.

Catriona fell into the empty stool beside Edelgard with a sigh, letting all the eyeshadow and lip rouge and powder she was holding fall onto the vanity. Edelgard couldn’t move her head, her head held tight in place by her mother’s hands, but she watched as her sister began to meticulously sort through the different shades and colors.

“Andreas is retrieving the flowers right now,” Catriona said, and raised a powder box to Edelgard’s face. Comparing the shades, she sighed and turned to sift through her pile of face powder boxes again. “To think that I won’t be able to see you, living in the castle and dressed in your gorgeous velvet shades, ever again…”

Her mother made a strange, choked noise. Edelgard felt herself tearing up, but reached a hand back to rest it on her mother’s knee and squeeze it reassuringly.

“Be sure to visit, won’t you?” Catriona asked with a smile.

“Don’t speak like that,” Edelgard whispered softly, and closed her eyes for a moment to force back the tears before she blinked them open again. “It’s not like that…”

But it was like that. Ever since the moment she had left Enbarr in that carriage, waving to the townspeople who watched her in awe, she knew she could never go back to being in that castle in the same way as before. She did not live in that castle of summer sunlight and familiar faces anymore; she no longer would.

She belonged in this castle now, surrounded by soft snow and gentle breezes and ragged clouds that let patches of sunlight slip through.

“Patty!” Catriona called over her shoulder.

“I told you not to call me that! Ugh, El, look at what you’ve done!”

Edelgard laughed, trying her hardest not to move her head. Behind her, Lady Anselma hid a laugh behind her hand. For once, it all felt like it used to. They weren’t sitting in Fhirdiad, preparing for her wedding. They were in Enbarr, sitting together at the tea table and sharing meals as they laughed and teased each other.

“But what is it, Catriona?” Patricia inquired.

“Come over here for a moment. I need you to check something for me.”

Watching her sisters out of the corner of her eyes, Edelgard winced slightly when her mother pulled her hair a little too tight. Immediately, Lady Anselma’s hand reached up to stroke her scalp.

“My apologies, El…”

“It’s alright, Mother. I know you mean no harm. Keep going.”

Looking up at herself in the vanity’s mirror, she blinked in surprise at the sudden transformation. Just minutes ago, her hair had been falling over her shoulders in soft waves. Now, all of her hair had been pulled back; it was all tangled up in her mother’s fingers, being skillfully woven together.

A powder-covered brush flitted in and out of Edelgard’s peripheral vision. She shut her eyes, letting Catriona brush her face down with powder. It weighed heavy on her face—quite the difference from the light and soft powder Edelgard usually used. When Edelgard opened her eyes, she saw how different the powder was. It looked smooth and blended in perfectly. One could not tell where the powder ended and where her skin started.

Already, Edelgard looked so different.

“Why are you here, Paul?” Edelgard murmured softly. “Weren’t you supposed to be helping Father?”

“He requested I deliver this to you.” Saying that, he walked to Edelgard’s side. In his hands was a plush velvet pillow. Atop of it…

“That’s…” Anyone well-versed in Adrestian royal history would know that tiara, with its prominent rubies and small diamonds that made little flowers and lace made of gold that strung it all together like vines.

“The tiara of an imperial princess. For generations, it has sat in the vault, unused… our father has decided to present it to you, Edelgard. As a wedding gift… and a parting gift.”

Edelgard’s eyes burned with tears. Catriona’s hand reached up to stroke Edelgard’s hair softly, her fingers dabbing away Edelgard’s tears; Edelgard leaned into her sister’s touch and pursed her lips before she lifted her eyes to meet Paul’s in the mirror.

The corner of his lips lifted up in a smile. “...Go on. Who would you like to crown you?”

“...Is Father…?”

When Paul shook his head, Edelgard wasn’t surprised. Why would Paul have been the one to bring over the tiara if her father was free?

“Then… Lycaon.”

Edelgard didn’t miss the way both Paul’s and Catriona’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Edelgard and Lycaon’s rocky relationship had never been unbeknownst to her siblings. But… they were never going to be the same way they used to be anymore. For once… she wanted a semblance of a regular siblingship between them.

“Hubert,” Paul called to the retainer, who was standing guard outside of Edelgard’s room. When Hubert opened the door and peered inside, Paul continued, “El is requesting Lycaon’s presence.”

“His Highness…? Very well. I will see what I can do…”

“Thank you, Hubert,” Paul said with a smile, and then laid the velvet pillow down on the vanity beside Catriona’s pile of make-up. Edelgard found her eyes drawn to it instinctively; the way the jewels glimmered in the torchlight was mesmerizing. She only stopped staring at it when Catriona told her to close her eyes.

As Catriona brushed powder over Edelgard’s eyelids and the crevices of her face, Edelgard could feel her mother pulling her hair tight. Then, the skillful weaving of her mother’s fingers stopped. Soon, the weight of the brush lifted from her face, and Edelgard blinked her eyes open. Her mother smiled at Edelgard from behind her.

“You’re starting to look beautiful, El.”

“You say that like she was never beautiful,” Patricia remarked from where she was, still smoothing out Edelgard’s wedding dress. Lady Anselma hid a laugh behind her hand.

“It’s okay, Mother. I know what you meant,” Edelgard reassured, reaching her hand back to pat her mother’s knee before she returned both of her hands to her lap. “May I move my head now?”

“Not yet, El,” Lady Anselma said with a smile, reaching over to pick up a few of the hair clips lying on the vanity. When the door opened again, Edelgard glanced in the mirror to see who it was and broke into an instinctive smile.

“El!” Andreas called excitedly, letting the handmaid who was helping them prepare for the wedding take the flowers from him before he wrapped his arms around Edelgard’s waist. Unable to move her head, she reached down to pat his hands. “You didn’t tell me your dress was so pretty! You’re going to look so beautiful!”

Reaching over with her hand, she ruffled his hair and then patted his arm as he let go of her. “Thank you, Andreas. Your support means a lot. Really.”

Behind her, her mother began to work at her hair again; her locks were sectioned off and pulled together and then sectioned off again, transforming into something so intricate that Edelgard could not follow it with her mind’s eye. There was a pause, and then Edelgard could feel her mother pressing in the hair clips. They were all a light brown, so as to not break the illusion that it was all her hair’s doing.

After the hair clips, she could feel something else being tucked into her hair. When Catriona lifted her brush from her eyelids, Edelgard opened her eyes to look in the mirror. Lady Anselma smiled back, busy tucking the bundle of goldenrod flowers that Andreas had brought to their room into her hair.

“Almost done now,” she reassured, and smoothed out Edelgard’s hair. Edelgard was too busy staring at herself, her eyelids covered in a deep blue that matched perfectly with the deep blue of her dress. Now Catriona was fiddling with something else—a sleek brush, coated with a golden eyeshadow.

Edelgard closed her eyes, and only felt Catriona dabbing at the inner corners of her eyes for a few seconds before the brush pulled away. When Edelgard opened her eyes, Catriona was smiling sadly.

“You look so beautiful,” she whispered, and then took a deep breath. “My baby sister… all grown up…”

“Don’t start crying,” Edelgard said with a soft smile. “If you start crying, everyone is going to start crying.” She reached her hand out and took Catriona’s, squeezing it reassuringly. Catriona smiled and squeezed back.

“Yes, yes…” She held onto Edelgard’s hand for a few more moments before she turned and took up a lip rouge pen. “Alright… let’s put the finishing touches on you.”

And, in a few minutes, Edelgard could not stop staring at herself. She looked so different, and it felt so… inexplicably strange. She’d never seen herself so dolled up like this before. Her eyelids were a stunning blue, with the corners brushed with gold. Her lips were a bright red, and her hair had been neatly tucked together with a bundle of flowers that blossomed across the entire back of her head.

She looked like a completely different person. Like a princess, ready to be married off.

“El,” Patricia spoke up. When Edelgard looked over at her sister, she smiled instinctively. There was such love and affection for her in Patricia’s eyes, she could not help wondering what she had done to deserve such a loving and supportive family.

It made her want to cry. But she couldn’t. Not here, not now. She had to be strong.

“Come on. You’ve got a dress to get into,” Patricia said with a smile, and looked over at their brothers. “You two, get out of here.”

“We’re going,” Paul reassured, and let Andreas give Edelgard one last hug before they left the room.

It took a fair bit of maneuvering and pulling and lacing, but when Edelgard saw herself, she couldn’t think of anything else except that for once, she belonged in the noble courts—with all their ball gowns and their glittering eyelids and their crimson lip rouge.

Lady Anselma finished lacing up the back of the dress as Patricia fluffed out the skirt and Catriona draped a pale golden veil over her face and her hair, tucking it into her hair to hold it in place. Edelgard watched the entire time through the full-length mirror in the corner of the room, just staring at herself.

There was a knock at the door, and then a voice. “Edelgard asked for me.”

“Come in,” Catriona said.

Lycaon stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him and meeting Edelgard’s eyes. He didn’t flinch—just let his eyes drift from his sister to the tiara, still sitting on the vanity. “...What is the matter?” he finally asked, in a low voice that was so very unlike the way he usually spoke.

“...I want you to place that tiara upon my head,” Edelgard murmured after a few moments of silence and expectant gazes being thrown her way. “In Father’s stead… will you crown me?”

He stared at her for a moment, his gaze indiscernible. For a moment, Edelgard worried that he would turn her away and turn his back on the one sister he had resented his entire life.

And then, he smiled. He laughed, even. He laughed and laughed, until there were little tears springing up in the corners of his eyes and he had to wipe them away.

“El… even now, you are the princess of the family, aren’t you…?”

Lycaon’s words brought memories back to light—memories of walking around the castle in a puffy princess gown, of pulling on her brother’s pant leg, of lifting him a garland of flowers she had made and lowering her head so he could place the crown on her head.

That had been when she was three—just two moons before she had been discovered to have the Crest of Seiros. In the days following, Lycaon had ignored her frigidly. Until now, Edelgard had thought that Lycaon had hated her since the day she had been born, hated her just because he could hate her and he should hate her.

And all of a sudden, she couldn’t help laughing either. Edelgard closed her eyes and felt herself continue to smile. “Yes… I suppose you’re right.”

She watched as Lycaon reached forward to take up the tiara, handling it carefully so as to make sure that his fingers didn’t leave stains on the shimmering jewels. Her mother and sisters stepped away from Edelgard; even without looking, Edelgard could feel everyone watching on with a smile as Lycaon laid the tiara atop her head.

It all felt how it was supposed to, how it used to be—at least for a few minutes.

“...You’re done,” her mother whispered with a sad smile. “You’re ready, El… ready to get married.”

Edelgard turned to look at her mother, and then looked at her sisters. They all looked upon her with such reverence she didn’t deserve and such love she didn’t know could exist, and Edelgard had to turn away to stop herself from tearing up.

This was for their sakes.

Lifting her head up high, Edelgard swallowed and nodded. “...Then let’s go.”

Patricia and Lycaon opened the door for her. Taking in a deep breath, she walked outside to greet her family.

“Oh, El.” The words spilled out of Louisa’s lips, who stared up at her sister with a strange softness in her eyes. Edelgard smiled at Louisa and the rest of her family before she curtsied to them all.

“...I’m ready,” she whispered.

Her father smiled and gestured to a nearby servant, who bowed in understanding and left to speak with the royal family. Edelgard watched him hurry away, and then turned to look back at her family. Almost all of her siblings had made the trip to Fhirdiad—all except for two, Catriona’s two younger brothers.

But it didn’t matter to her who was here or how many were missing. As long as they were here… she didn’t mind. She just wanted them to be here, to remind her of all she had to fight for and stay strong for.

“We love you,” her father whispered. “We all do… no matter what happens, we will always love you.”

“I know,” Edelgard murmured, and leaned into her mother’s touch when she wrapped an arm around her waist. “I know, Mother, Father…”

And then reality came sinking back in. The chapel bells began to ring, signalling to everyone that heard them that the wedding was going to begin. Edelgard fought the urge to freeze up. All of her siblings shared a glance, and then Lycaon cleared his throat. “We should go now,” he whispered. “I… I suppose we will see you later. Father, will you…?”

“Yes. I will be by El’s side.” His hand reached out to rest on Edelgard’s shoulder. “You should all go ahead.”

“Can’t Mother…?” Edelgard attempted to say, but her father shook his head. Somehow, she was not surprised. Even though her mother had been the one by her side all this time, her father was the emperor. Her mother was merely a concubine.

She lifted her head and met all of her siblings’ gazes confidently, and then closed her eyes as they rounded the corner and began to make their way down the hallway and towards the chapel.

Edelgard didn’t watch him leave.

Her father’s hand on her arm made her blink her eyes open and look at him; he smiled up at her. “You are beautiful, El… my daughter. You look so much like your mother.”

She pursed her lips and managed a smile before her gaze turned down towards her feet, obscured by the skirt of her wedding dress and the pale golden tint of her wedding veil. There was something so… upsetting, in a way, about knowing that this was her reality now.

But she had made this choice. She had done what was necessary, for all of their sakes.

“Come… we have a wedding to attend,” her father said with a smile. Edelgard nodded and let her father lead her down another hallway, towards the other entrance of the chapel where she was supposed to enter it as the bride.

Very carefully, they made their way down the hallway and into the room that led into the chapel. There were two large doors, rimmed with golden decor and golden door knobs. Standing beside them was a man who looked startling similar to the Sir Glenn she had met a week ago, holding a bouquet of flowers. Edelgard couldn’t help but think how strange it was—a man like him, holding something adorned with ribbons and lace that looked like something she was supposed to hold.

“Princess Edelgard,” the man said with a smile, bowing. “Rodrigue Achilles Fraldarius, at your service.” So he was that knight Glenn’s father. “The handmaiden tending to you wished for me to give this to you.” Saying that, he offered her the bouquet of flowers he was holding. “She said that you had left it in your dressing room.”

Had she? Edelgard really couldn’t quite remember. Perhaps that was just a part of the wedding morning rush, even though it hadn’t been much of a rush for her. Regardless, she took the bouquet from Sir Rodrigue—finding irony in her previous thoughts about Sir Rodrigue’s bouquet that turned out to be hers—and nodded gratefully before she turned to face the double doors. Here, it began. Here, her efforts would be rewarded and her walk alone would begin.

Her father’s arm linked through hers. For once, she let herself lean on him.

Not yet. Her walk alone had yet to begin. She still had him and all of her siblings and her mother.

And then the doors were pushed open, held open by Sir Glenn and another man who she did not know. Edelgard didn’t have time to dwell on him.

In front of her, a long royal blue carpet with golden fringes stretched out towards the altar. Everyone was already standing, watching her, and she finally forced herself to walk forward. Her feet and eyes followed the path she was supposed to take, and when she lifted her head, there he was.

Her husband-to-be, Prince Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd. Dressed in a navy blue and golden suit and a fur cape, he smiled reassuringly when he saw her.

She found no reassurance in the action.

Prince Dimitri stepped forward as Edelgard approached the steps of the altar, offering his hand to help her step up. Edelgard let go of her father and reached out to take it, stepping up onto the altar; she cast her eyes over her shoulder at her father as Prince Dimitri bowed formally to him.

“...Take care of her,” her father murmured, and leaned up to kiss Edelgard on the forehead. Even through her veil, the action felt burned into her skin—the final act of love that she would ever receive from her father.

“Of course,” Prince Dimitri responded in a low voice. Edelgard swallowed and watched her father step away, nodding in reverence to the prince before he went to take his seat next to her family—all sitting in the front rows of the crowd.

“Thank you,” Edelgard whispered, just loud enough for her father to hear as he left her in Prince Dimitri’s care.

And then she turned and walked up the stairs to the altar, towards the priest awaiting their arrival with the teachings of Saint Seiros in their hand.

They both stood facing the priest, her with her bouquet in one hand and Prince Dimitri’s hand in the other. Listening to the priest speak, Edelgard could just barely remember the last time she had heard the words of holy matrimony—words promising the bride to the groom and the groom to the bride, in times of sickness and health and peace and war and love and disagreement.

It had been three years ago when she had last heard those words spoken, at Catriona’s marriage to Viscount Jeritza von Hrym. That had been a day of careful optimism, of hope that her sister would be able to spend her life with someone who understood and loved her.

And perhaps they did not love each other as husband and wife, but they loved each other as best friends. Was that not enough for them?

Edelgard just hoped that that would be enough for this marriage.

“Crown Prince Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd,” the priest began, pulling Edelgard out of her thoughts. Her heart thundered in her ears. “Do you accept your betrothed, Princess Edelgard von Hresvelg, as your wife?”

“I do.”

And now it was her turn. Her hand twitched instinctively out of worry. Prince Dimitri’s hand tightened around hers. For once, she appreciated his presence.

The priest turned his eyes to her. “Princess Edelgard von Hresvelg. Do you accept your betrothed, Crown Prince Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, as your husband?”

Edelgard lifted her chin, and straightened her back. Prince Dimitri’s thumb stroked her finger soothingly as she said the words that she had always dwelled on during weddings, for how could someone so confidently place their lives and trust into the hands of another?

Yet here she was, doing the same thing.

“I do.”

“Then, by the Saint Seiros and under the eyes of all present, I declare you to be husband and wife. The rings, if you would.”

Prince Dimitri let go of her hand to reach into his suit pocket, removing the two rings. He opened his hand to her, and gently she placed her left hand in his palm. His touch was soft and reassuring, even as he slipped the sapphire and golden ring onto her finger.

Then, he pressed a solid golden ring into her hand and extended his own left hand. Forcing her hands not to shake, she slipped the ring onto his finger and squeezed his hand. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice so soft and trembling so much that she was sure only he had heard the words, for the priest just continued to speak as if nothing had been exchanged between the groom and the bride.

“With the exchange of vows and rings, your lives are now bound upon the name of the Heroes’ Relics. Areadbhar and Aymr honor you, the bearers of the Crest of Blaiddyd and Seiros. With the sharing of your first kiss, I may pronounce you husband and wife.”

Swallowing harshly, Edelgard lifted her chin to face Prince Dimitri. He met her eyes and smiled reassuringly at her, reaching his hands out to lift her veil; when he saw her, his gaze seemed to soften inexplicably with an emotion she didn’t understand.

“...You’re beautiful,” he murmured. She didn’t know what to say in response. She just closed her eyes and lifted her chin up towards him.

And then he was kissing her, his lips soft against hers. He kissed her and held her hands with such caution, as if she was a glass doll that would shatter if he was not gentle. Edelgard just tightened her hands around his and tried not to flinch when she felt the brush of his wedding ring between her fingers.

This was her reality now. This was the path that she had chosen to walk, and it was all hers now.

No more turning back.

“Your prince, His Majesty Prince Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, and your princess, Her Majesty Princess Edelgard Blaiddyd.”

As she walked down that navy blue and golden fringed carpet, her new husband’s hand in hers, she found that nothing had changed. Anticipation and uncertainty still festered in her heart, eating her up from the inside out. Staring out over the crowd of blue and fiddling with her own sapphire and golden wedding ring did nothing to quell it all.

~ / . / . / ~

With a sigh, Edelgard kicked her high heels off and removed her tiara, taking extra care to leave it upon the velvet pillow it had first been given to her on and making sure it hadn’t been stained or damaged from the day’s activities.

Or, perhaps it was the previous day by now. It certainly looked like it had already passed midnight, from the stars she had seen outside of her carriage window on the ride over.

She reached a hand behind her back to unlace her wedding dress, and flinched when she felt another pair of hands already there. Spinning around, she saw her new husband standing there, an embarrassed look on his face.

“My apologies,” he whispered. “I… I thought I should help you get undressed. Your dress looks uncomfortable…”

“I can undress myself,” she responded curtly, and then sighed as she turned to look at him. “But… I appreciate your concern.” Her hands folded together in front of her waist, and she took in a deep breath. “If you really would like to… you may undress me.”

“No, no… it’s not that, I assure you.” Prince Dimitri shook his head and took a step back, his gaze darting off to look at anything in the room aside from Edelgard. “I… I will be out in the foyer. Once you are ready for bed… please let me know.”

Edelgard watched him start to walk away, an eyebrow raised. She had never expected him to be so… considerate of how she felt. Of course, her view of marriage had been tainted by her father’s and Catriona’s experiences—or nonexistent experiences, for that matter—with it; those had been experiences of hardship and desolation that she had had to watch them endure.

“Wait,” she called out. He stopped in the doorframe of the bedroom, but didn’t turn to look at her. “If you would… I would appreciate your help. This dress was not made to be worn and removed by just one person.”

When he hesitated to look back at her, she held back a sigh and continued to speak.

“We are husband and wife now. Laying a hand on my body is not scandalous in the least. Now, please. Help me. Lest you wish to sit outside in the foyer for the better part of an hour.”

Edelgard watched him, her chin held high as he slowly turned to look at her and began to take uncertain steps towards her. She raised her arms behind her back and began to fiddle with the strings of her dress, turning her back to him. He walked to her side and took them in his hand, pushing her hands to rest at her side.

“Unlace them, please,” she requested softly. “All the way. And once you are finished… I would much appreciate it if you could retrieve my nightgown from where it is in the closet.”

Being married to a crown prince was something Edelgard was going to have to become used to. He had servants everywhere, overzealous to serve him and remove any burden from his shoulders. By the time they had arrived at the log cabin within the Forest of Blaiddyd, servants had already set their belongings in place.

Edelgard had not even given them her belongings. While she was out getting married, the servants had been painstakingly removing every item of clothing and every jewelry box from her room—to bring here.

Prince Dimitri’s fingers, calloused and gentle, brushed against her back. Edelgard managed to not flinch or start. They worked at the strings holding her dress together nimbly, loosening and loosening until the top slid off of her midriff despite Edelgard not moving her body at all.

She felt his fingers immediately retract from her body and heard his footsteps hurry away, towards the closet. Pushing off the dress, she resigned herself to silent awkwardness for the rest of this… “honeymoon”.

Edelgard spent the first night on the farthest end of the bed from Prince Dimitri, wrapped up in completely different blankets and her head resting on a pillow that his head did not share. When she heard the prince’s breathing soften and steady, she took her own blankets and moved to the velvet couch in the foyer.

By the time he awoke the next morning and walked out into the foyer, she had stoked the fireplace and was sitting in her nightgown among her blankets, a book in hand.

“What are you reading?” he asked. She blinked, then looked up at him.

“...An encyclopedia on Faerghus traditions,” she answered bluntly, and offered the book to him. Prince Dimitri took it, turning it over to look at the cover. Once he read the title, he frowned.

“I despise this book. Sir Gustave made me read it far too often for my liking as a young child. It was far too vague as well… I learned from my father better than this.” He handed the book back to her and took a seat on the couch beside her. She didn’t move away. “If you would like me to clarify on things that that text fails to explain… I would be more than glad.”

“I see. Thank you for your offer.”

“...Why did you choose that book to read?”

Edelgard’s fingers tightened around the book. When she raised her eyes to meet his, she could not discern anything behind those sky-blue eyes of his. “Because… I am going to be the next queen of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus.”

And at that, Prince Dimitri’s eyes softened. “...That is something we can worry about when we get to that point,” he whispered, and reached a hand out again; when she frowned, he pointed at the book she was clutching onto. Edelgard handed it to him tentatively, and then watched as he stood up and returned it to its place on the nearby bookshelf. “For now…” he continued, “while we are here… we should worry about ourselves. There is no country to care about… not yet, at least.”

She stared at him incredulously. Lycaon would never have dared to act this carefree. There was always a country to worry about, and there was always a country to care about—that was what her father and Lycaon and Manfred all believed, from the bottom of their hearts.

But Lycaon and Manfred had no wives to tend to. And her father… well, he had too many concubines to tend to. Perhaps this man really did care about her. It might have simply been a sense of duty, on the behalf of whoever had coerced him into this marriage, but perhaps he did care about her.

“...I have never met one like you,” she whispered.

“Did you say something?”

“No… nothing. I… I suppose you are right.” Edelgard turned her eyes towards the bookshelf, and smiled drily. “I never did enjoy reading about cultures. Would you tell me about Faerghus?”

And he did.

He told her all about the snowy northern climate, how it must be different from what she experienced in Enbarr. He laughed when they took breakfast and she took her first bite of Gautier cheese gratin, only for her to make a face and tell him that she thought it was unpleasant, to say the least. He smiled as they took walks out in the forest and she asked him questions, all about whether they celebrated all of the familiar holidays they celebrated back in Enbarr. He explained to her over dinner why he always had a dagger strapped to his belt—that blades were seen as ways to control one’s destiny.

For the rest of the trip, she slept on that large bed in the master bedroom, an arms-length away from Prince Dimitri.

Even then, the deeply unsettled feeling in the bottom of her heart did not dissolve.

“Our fathers agreed that, after we married… it would be best for you to come attend the Officer’s Academy, alongside me,” he explained to her on the last day, and then offered her a cup of bergamot tea—as if the action would soothe the blow.

The anxiety and unhappiness intensified, opening like a chasm and pulling her down into the abyss. She was a crown prince’s wife now. She was no longer anything but his to own.

She resisted the urge to take off her wedding ring right then and there.

~ / . / . / ~

“Edelgard.”

She lifted her head up to meet Prince Dimitri’s gaze. They were sitting on opposite sides of the carriage, Edelgard leaning against the window as she watched the trees and the sunlight filtering through the leaves. Prince Dimitri was sitting in the middle of the seat across from her, his gaze directed towards her. Before, he had been staring outside through the other window.

“We are almost at the monastery.”

“So we are.” Edelgard’s hand cupped her cheek as she stared outside the window.

“...I will handle your enrollment at the Officer’s Academy with Lady Rhea and Professor Seteth. For now… you simply need to prepare for your arrival and transition into the Academy.”

Edelgard didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to acknowledge it—that her life was going to be pulled away from Enbarr, and into Garreg Mach Monastery, and that her life was going to be changed entirely from now on. Simply the thought made her feel like a dagger had been lodged in her heart.

“My apologies for making you take this trip with me.”

Finally, Edelgard tore her gaze away from the outside and shook her head. “No. You do not have to apologize. It is convenient. The Monastery is in the middle of all three countries, after all.”

Prince Dimitri pursed his lips and nodded. “Yes… you’re right.” He turned his eyes to the scenery outside of the carriage with a sigh. “We’ll be coming to a stop in a few minutes now.” Edelgard didn’t say anything, and Prince Dimitri cleared his throat. “...I have something for you.”

Edelgard watched on as he unhooked the dagger on his belt and turned it over in his hands, as if contemplating the action. After a few moments, he offered it to her.

“...Take it, please. For my peace of mind.”

Edelgard took the blue and gold dagger, staring down at it. The carving was intricate and polished and made in the shape of golden waves, crashing down upon deep sea blue of the sheath. Prince Dimitri leaned over and rested one of his hands on hers; she tried her best not to flinch at his touch.

“I shall see you in a week’s time.”

“...Very well.” She held tight to the dagger and watched as Prince Dimitri stood up; when the carriage door opened, he nodded formally to her and walked out of the carriage. She could see students from the monastery flocking to his side, and more than a few eyes attempting to peer through the windows of the carriage towards her.

Edelgard just turned her eyes away from the outside and down to the dagger. She ran a finger along the sheath and sighed softly. Why had he given her such a thing? It was not for self-protection. Edelgard herself knew some semblance of magic and hand-to-hand combat, not to mention a proficiency for axes. If she ever had to fight, she could be ready to.

Yet, she also knew that it was Faerghus tradition to view blades as tools of destiny—as a way to cut a path to a better future. He himself had taught her that, after all. But… why?

There was no better future for her. There was only this now, this marriage and this expectation. This was her life.

And she was not surprised when, watching Garreg Mach Monastery shrink and disappear under the horizon, her heart warmed like a wound being healed.

~ / . / . / ~

It had been three days since Prince Dimitri and she had parted ways at Garreg Mach Monastery. Knowing that that cathedral and those dormitories would be her home for the next seven moons was a thought she had somehow already come to terms with.

The thought that she would be leaving behind the castle in Enbarr forever, though, was not.

With a sigh, Edelgard cast her eyes outside of the carriage. The scenery was beginning to grow familiar; a white limestone tile path that was lined by peach trees, all ripe for the picking. The people of the city were already at work, carrying basketfuls of the delectable treat. They stopped, though, to stare at her carriage. Edelgard swallowed and waved at them.

She resisted the urge to flinch at the sight of that sapphire and gold ring on her left hand, glistening in the sunlight that passed through the carriage window. They moved on, past the trees and the gates of the capital and into the city.

Edelgard stared at the passing buildings, pursing her lips as she recognized each and every one of them. The garden surrounding the pavilion, the church, the opera house… it was all so familiar. Edelgard remembered sneaking into those places with Andreas and Patricia, laughing and talking and acting as though they were not three children of the royal family and just three siblings, spending the night out in the city with each other.

And, finally, they passed through the castle gates and came to a stop in front of the stairs leading up to it. When the carriage door swung open, Edelgard let the carriage operator help her out—then turned and threw her arms around the person she saw.

Angelika started, but after a few moments hugged her sister back. “...I know,” she whispered. “You’re here now, El… it’s okay.”

Just those words made Edelgard tear up. Angelika had never been the best comforter, nor the best speaker. Yet the fact that she was trying—actively trying—for her sister’s sake made Edelgard react in a way that was all too familiar these days.

After a few moments of silence and soothing reassurances, Edelgard pulled away from her sister and turned to hug her other siblings.

“Mother is our room,” Patricia explained softly when they hugged. “She’s gathering some of your things for you.” When Edelgard tightened her arms around her sister, Patricia kissed her head and rubbed Edelgard’s back. “I know. It’s okay.”

Taking in a deep breath, Edelgard let go of Patricia and smiled when Andreas wrapped his arms around her waist. “...Thank you,” she whispered, stroking his hair softly and smiling. “Thank you, Andreas.”

Once Andreas let go of her, the three of them made their way back to Edelgard’s room together. When they opened the door, Lady Anselma looked over her shoulder at the three children, and Edelgard saw something forlorn and saddened in her mother’s eyes; however, her mother quickly blinked it away and smiled over her shoulder.

“El,” Lady Anselma whispered, and then turned to wrap her daughter up in a tight hug. “You’re here… you’re safe…”

Edelgard nestled into her mother’s grip, her eyes fluttering shut. Whether her mother meant relief out of the fact that she was safe, or was comforting her in telling her that she was safe, Edelgard found that she didn’t care. She was here, in her mother’s arms. That was what mattered.

“El…”

“Mother,” she whispered back, and choked back a sob when she felt Patricia wrap her arms around both of them. “Mother… Patty…”

“What’s the matter, my daughter? Come now… we’re all here.” There was a pause, and then she felt Andreas’s timid arms wrap back around her waist. “We’re all here, El… what’s the matter?”

“...I don’t want to go,” she murmured softly, and felt tears burning her eyes. She had never cried like this before, never felt so desolate and alone and unsure of everything that she had ever done. “I don’t want to leave you all… I don’t want to go… but, I… I have to… and I…”

Edelgard cut herself off when her mother shushed her reassuringly, stroking her hair, and then shook her head. She pushed onwards.

“I don’t want to leave you… I… I’m going to miss you all so, so much, I—” she finally managed to get out, and then fell into tears. They were silent but racked her body, making her tremble and shake in a way that she’d never done before.

Nobody said anything as Edelgard fell apart, the thin seams holding her together snapping at last. All the thoughts and the worries came pouring out of her.

“I want to stay here,” she whispered. “I want to be here with you all… I did this for your sakes, I did it all for you, I stayed strong for you, so why am I…?”

Her mother kissed the top of her head softly, continuing to stroke her hair as Edelgard sobbed. “Because we won’t be there with you in person,” she whispered. “But we’ll always be with you… we’ll always be thinking about you and we’ll always be worrying about you. Stay strong, El… not just for our sakes, but for your sake.”

“...I don’t want to leave,” Edelgard admitted in a small voice. “But I know I have to. And I’m scared to… to leave behind everything I know.”

“You’ll be okay, El,” Patricia reassured softly, carding her fingers through the ends of Edelgard’s hair. Andreas tightened his grip around her waist. Her mother pressed another kiss to the top of her head. “You’ll be okay… I know you. We all know you. You’ll be okay.”

“...I’ll be okay,” she echoed softly, but the words were hollow and rang in her mind like a knell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want a reference for Edelgard’s bridal dress (the last dress, with golden lace lining and Faerghus royal blue for the sheer and base skirt instead of white for everything): https://evermore-fashion.tumblr.com/post/615369143566417920/sara-mrad-ethereal-poem-spring-2020-bridal


	5. In the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Ideas: I spoke too soon  
Those of you who know me know that I tend to get hit with a big truck of writers’ block during the summer. Combine that with the fact that I was using all my willpower to write a zine piece and… yeah. I didn’t get any work in on WR for a good month :<  
Anyways. Sorry for keeping you waiting! I know I’m not really supposed to give excuses because I don’t even have an update schedule, but I just wanted to explain why I couldn’t quite keep up my prediction in the last chapter. Thanks for being understanding!

The bumpiness of the slightly unpaved paths that led towards Garreg Mach Monastery had somehow become familiar to Edelgard. She stared out of the carriage window at the passing scenery, sighing.

In the back of the carriage, her luggage thumped softly. The monastery was drawing closer; she could see it on the horizon line, tall and towering. Its shadow fell over the carriage, hiding the deep red that signified an arrival from the Adrestian Empire.

There, they were all waiting for her. Her new companions, and her new country to serve.

Her fingers tightened around the royal blue skirt she was wearing. She had not dared to open the package Prince Dimitri had left her—containing her newly sewn and freshly washed uniform—until this morning, when she had to. It was a beautifully made garment, but a garment she did not want to wear.

It was a signifier of her husband’s control over her. The ring on her finger was another one as well, glimmering in the sunlight that streamed through the carriage windows.

“Lady Edelgard?”

She started and glanced up. The carriage operator was speaking to her through the window behind his head, which he had opened for that very purpose. “What is it?” she asked.

“Ah, you’re awake. I thought you had fallen asleep, my lady. We will be arriving at the monastery in a short while.”

“I see. Thank you.” She heard the glass window slide shut, and then let out a sigh. It was happening.

The road smoothened out slightly as the carriage continued on, the monastery becoming so close that the spires were no longer visible from the window beside Edelgard. She forced back another sigh and leaned back against the carriage seat. She didn’t dare to look outside. She already knew that the monastery was getting closer. She didn’t need to see it for herself.

And finally, after what felt like an eternity, the carriage came to a stop. Edelgard didn’t look outside, nor did she accept the carriage operator’s hand. She stepped out on her own and lifted her head.

“...Prince Dimitri,” she said sternly.

He offered her a smile. She didn’t reciprocate. Before he could speak, someone else did.

“Welcome, Princess Edelgard.”

Edelgard looked over Prince Dimitri’s shoulder, and bowed instinctively when she saw who was approaching. “Archbishop…”

“Please, rise.” When Edelgard did, the archbishop smiled. “How blessed we are to have you joining us for this year at the Academy. To think… the Kingdom’s crown prince, the Alliance’s next sovereign duke, and an imperial princess would all be here.”

“It is my honor to be here,” Edelgard said softly. “Truly… it is.”

The archbishop nodded, the smile still on her lips, before she looked over at the green-haired man at her right. “Seteth… may I leave her in your care?”

“Of course, Archbishop,” the man responded.

“Then I will take my leave…” Archbishop Rhea glanced at Edelgard and smiled reassuringly. “If you ever need anything, my dear, do not hesitate to come find me.”

Edelgard only nodded, watching as the archbishop turned and left. A green-haired girl who had been standing at her right (whom Edelgard had not even noticed was there until now) followed her away.

“Now then,” the man—Seteth—spoke up. Edelgard directed her gaze towards him, trying to ignore Prince Dimitri. “I would like to formally welcome you to the Academy as the professor in charge of the Blue Lions house. I wish to speak with you about procedures and expectations, but that can wait until after you have settled in. For now, allow us to help you move into your room.”

“May I ask where my room is?” she asked.

“You will be living in a room on the third floor of the monastery. Unfortunately, we do not have enough quarters in the dormitories where other students typically live. If your worry is about your husband—”

“No, Professor Seteth. My worry is not of that.” Quite the opposite, she mused silently. “I was simply wondering.”

The professor watched her for a moment, his gaze lingering on her before he nodded. “Very well. I trust that all of your belongings are in the carriage?”

“Yes.”

At Edelgard’s confirmation, Professor Seteth turned to a soldier standing beside him. “You, there. Help unload the carriage, and take it up the third floor. Once you walk up the staircase, turn to the right and walk all the way down the hallway. Leave all of the princess’s belongings in that empty room. I will give the princess a tour around the monastery.”

“Yes, sir!” the soldier said, nodding before going over to help Prince Dimitri and the carriage operator unload the carriage. Edelgard watched for a moment, swallowing harshly before she looked back at Professor Seteth.

“Shall we go?”

“Yes, Professor,” she agreed, nodding. When Professor Seteth began walking away, she followed—not sparing her husband a second glance. Instead, she kept her gaze straight ahead, and let Professor Seteth lead her into the large building in front of them.

They walked through the hall, their footsteps echoing against the walls as Professor Seteth gestured around them. “The monastery is quite large, but you will not find it hard to traverse once you are used to living here. To your left is the dining hall. It is open from dawn until dusk, and meals are provided three times a day when the bell rings. If you would like to eat in between meals, you may purchase food from the vendors in the marketplace.”

“I see.”

“Come.” He led her out of the hall and through to another hall. “This is the entrance hall. It is a communal space for anyone affiliated with the monastery to use.” They took a left, leading into a courtyard. Edelgard’s throat tightened when she saw all the students, milling about. “This—”

Edelgard could guess what it was. It was the classrooms. She stared at the large blue banners decorating the walls of the middle classroom, adorned with the golden lion and knight.

This was her new home. A new home for her new identity, as the crown prince’s wife and the princess of Faerghus.

She averted her gaze and stared blankly at Professor Seteth, his mouth moving and speaking. Edelgard did not comprehend any of the words he said; she simply nodded listlessly and followed him when he turned and led her away again.

This time, they crossed the stone bridge leading to the cathedral. Edelgard raised her head when Professor Seteth stopped walking; she was about to ask why, but when she saw the sight before her, she understood why.

It was beautiful, the sight that met her eyes. High up above the trees and the forest, Edelgard swore she could see everything—the birds nesting in the pine trees, the clouds drifting across the vibrant blue sky, the carriage following the dirt path away from Garreg Mach Monastery and back towards Enbarr. She could see it all.

And for the first time since she had stood at the altar, she felt a sense of peace—for the first time since she had stood at the altar, could even feel peace. She stared, trance-like, until Professor Seteth cleared his throat and made her start slightly. Edelgard looked at the professor and bowed apologetically.

“My apologies,” she murmured.

“There is no need to apologize. It is a beautiful sight.”

Edelgard nodded wordlessly in agreement, turning to look out over the scenery one more time before she met Professor Seteth’s gaze. “...Shall we go see the cathedral?” she suggested in a soft voice that didn’t sound like herself.

The professor nodded. “Yes, let us.” He led her into the cathedral, high-roofed with voices echoing against the walls. The sun filtered through the stained-glass windows, and stands held candles that illuminated the golden floor. “This is the cathedral. You are free to pray here, if you wish. Additionally, choir practice and a counsellor are available to you here every weekend.”

Edelgard pointedly avoided her gaze from the columns on the side of the monastery, where two familiar faces stood in the shadows—staring at her.

“Should you choose to join us for worship, we hold it at the start of every week starting at sunrise,” Professor Seteth continued, entirely unaware of the stares Edelgard was garnering from her classmates-to-be and passing by monks. “During your time in the monastery, we hope to help you learn more about and devote yourself to the teachings of Saint Seiros.”

Yet, there was a glint in Professor Seteth’s eyes that Edelgard easily deciphered after a few moments. She was the bearer of the Crest of Seiros, after all. She was supposed to devote herself to the teachings of Seiros, and give her family living in Enbarr a good reputation.

Had they never stopped to consider that, perhaps, Edelgard did not love or want to praise the goddess for leading her to the very position she was in?

Still, Edelgard nodded wordlessly. At her silent affirmation, Professor Seteth’s gaze flickered to the entrance of the cathedral before he glanced back at her. “Now then. Shall we continue on?”

Again, Edelgard nodded and followed the professor when he led her out of the large double doors. She took another moment to stare out over the tops of the tree, took another moment to locate that carriage that was making its way down the trails and towards the horizon—out of her eyesight and out of her fantasies.

This was her reality. There was no one else to help her now except for herself.

Drawing her uniform coat tighter around her to block out the harsh winds, she tore her gaze away from the comforting sight of pine tree tops and let herself be led away.

The rest of the tour went by in a blur—the knights’ hall, the stables, the marketplace again. Edelgard watched as the clear water of the fishing pond danced down her fingers, and held her glove the whole time. Even when the water droplets had dried off of her hand as she admired the blooming flowers in the greenhouse, she did not put her glove back on.

“This is your room,” Professor Seteth said, and Edelgard had to try her best to hold back the sigh of relief on her lips. Somehow, those had been the very words she had wanted to hear this whole time—a place of respite, all to her own. “I shall leave to your own time now. Should you need something, do not hesitate to speak with me.”

“Thank you, Professor.” Edelgard watched Professor Seteth leave, making sure he had shut the door behind him before she walked over to the window.

Staring outside, she watched as the uniformed students made their way in and out of the courtyard. A few of them she didn’t recognize waved to another group that she could vaguely recognize—Caspar and Linhardt, wasn’t it? The other students seemed to be going to the Golden Deer classroom. They must have been students from the Alliance.

Strange, how quickly Edelgard had come to accept her new set of circumstances.

Unbidden, her gaze drifted away from the students and back up towards the sky. Up so high, she could see it all again—the open sky, bright blue and dotted with white clouds that drifted wherever the winds took them. In the distance the fir trees stood tall and proud—unswaying and unwavering and so unchanging. She didn’t know what it was about the trees and the sky. Perhaps some of Wolfgang’s hobbies were rubbing off on her. He had always been one to admire and reflect on nature, more so than the rest of their siblings.

Edelgard had cone with him once, on one of his hikes into the forest surrounding Enbarr. That had been a few years ago, now… a pleasant spring breeze, blowing through her hair as she sat on a smooth stone and stared out over the fir tree tips and the castle, so small.

A reminder of how small she really was, in comparison to the world. Smiling instinctively, Edelgard’s fingers laced together. Yes… perhaps Wolfgang was right. Her life was so small. In the end… what did it matter, how straight she held her back and how square she held her shoulders? What did it matter, how they all spoke about her? All that mattered was that she knew she had done the right thing.

A knock on her door took her moment of peace away from her. Letting herself sigh softly, Edelgard turned and went to answer it. When she cracked her door open, the question of who it was died on her lips.

Her husband’s familiar blue eyes stared back at her. She opened the door and stared at him expectantly. When there was nothing said but his eyes darted around, as if looking for something to say, Edelgard stood there and waited for him to speak, like a good wife would.

“How was your tour of the monastery?” he finally asked.

“Good.”

Silence. Prince Dimitri glanced away for a moment before looking at her again. “Is there any place you would like me to show you in more detail?”

Silence again. This time, it was Edelgard who had to respond. She didn’t have to think twice before answering. “No, I’m alright. Thank you for making such a kind offer.”

~ / . / . / ~

Breakfasts, she tended to take alone. The castle had always come to life early in the morning, and so they had all become accustomed to awakening early. At the Officers’ Academy, however, what others seemed to view as early was late in her eyes. The dining hall was almost always empty when she went in for breakfast. Eventually, she became used to eating alone.

Not this morning, however. Prince Dimitri was sitting across the table from her, taking a sip of chamomile tea out of his teacup. Perhaps he had begun to notice just how early she awoke each morning. He must have. Why would he have awoken so early otherwise?

“How are you enjoying the food?”

Edelgard glanced up at him, keeping her lips pursed before she spoke up. “...It’s quite nice, thank you very much for your concern.” Her voice was cool and collected—as regal as could be.

Prince Dimitri smiled. “That is good to know. I worried the transition to the Officer’s Academy might be too much for you.”

Resisting the urge to snap back with something about how it had been and still was a hard transition, Edelgard instead nodded curtly. “I promise you, I am doing alright.”

With that said, she turned her attention back down to her plate of saghert and cream. She could feel the prince’s gaze on her, deep and piercing. As if he could see into her and her very heart.

But he could not. She had shielded her heart away from so many people, but most of all from him. She had taken great care, in their time apart, to shield it from him.

They completed their meal in tense silence, the only sound between them the sound of her fork scraping the plate and his teacup clattering against the saucer each time he put it down. Edelgard barely spared him a glance, and although she felt his gaze land on her many times, she never lifted her head to meet it.

“...Since we are both here,” Prince Dimitri started as the amount of saghert and cream Edelgard could push around her plate as a distraction dwindled, “would you allow me to walk with you to the classroom this morning?”

He should not have to ask. He should not have to ask his wife what was okay and not okay. Guilt flooded her heart and clogged her throat. How ashamed her family would be of her if they saw her now, making the crown prince act like this. “Of course you may, Dimitri,” she answered through all the thoughts, swarming her mind.

At his name, Prince Dimitri beamed. “Thank you, Edelgard,” he said, and then lowered his gaze for a moment before looking back up at her—something unspoken in his eyes.

She ignored it and finished her last bite before tidying up her utensils and plate. “...Shall we go?” she whispered, still staring down at her plate. She had no doubt she looked like a wilted flower, her head tilted down and her gaze on her feet more than what was in front of her, but it was a byproduct of playing the part of being Prince Dimitri’s, crown prince of Faerghus’s, wife.

“Let us.”

Edelgard followed her husband, allowing the women working at the dining hall to take their plates before letting Dimitri lead her out into the gardens. Neither of them said a word as they passed through bushes, offering them summer blossoms at their peak. Vibrant colors and fragrant scents and everything that Edelgard would have loved back in Enbarr, but now couldn’t even stop to appreciate.

Forced to leave it all behind, Edelgard followed Dimitri silently towards the classrooms. The doors were already open, and she drew in a deep breath to steel herself for another performance as Prince Dimitri’s wife.

And then she stopped. There was a bishop, walking away from the cathedral and towards the first-floor quarters. His face was so familiar, with a sharp nose like Catriona but a cleft chin like Manfred and sharp cheekbones just like her (their?) father and—

It couldn’t be. Could it…?

“Sir Bishop!” she called out before she could stop herself, walking towards him. When he turned to face her, all of her suspicions were confirmed.

The shocked face of her brother looked back at her.

“Maximilian,” she whispered, and threw her arms around her brother’s neck.

“Edelgard…” his voice was breathy, and she felt his arms come around her torso to hug her. She buried her face against his shoulder and forced herself to take deep breaths, to not let the seams come falling apart all over again. Not here, not now.

Maximilian, as if sensing the shift in his sister’s demeanor, kept his arms around her and shushed her gently. “I’m here,” he whispered. “I’m right here. Don’t be sad, El…”

Edelgard swallowed harshly and nodded, resting her head against his shoulder and taking in deep breaths. In and out, in and out. Deep, deep breaths. He was here. She was safe. Edelgard was safe.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. Edelgard froze.

“Manfred… didn’t tell you?” she murmured, pulling away so that she could look into Maximilian’s eyes. The look of confusion cemented the truth—Manfred hadn’t told him. Of all people in the world that Manfred could have decided not to tell, it had to be Maximilian.

“...Manfred has not written to me ever since I refused Mercedes von Bartels’s hand in marriage,” Maximilian confided. “What happened?”

Edelgard swallowed, glancing over at Prince Dimitri. He met her gaze, and hesitantly she gestured for him to come closer.

“Maximilian…” she murmured, turning back to her brother, “meet my husband. Prince Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, of Faerghus.” Prince Dimitri bowed, wise enough not to say anything.

“Ah—” her brother cut himself off, smiling, but Edelgard could see that the smile didn’t reach his eyes. Maximilian bowed back to Prince Dimitri. “Your Highness. A pleasure.” He turned back to his sister. “Edelgard. Would you like to walk with me?”

“Of course,” she said, and glanced back at Prince Dimitri. A mutual understanding passed between them (and that was perhaps one of the best things about Prince Dimitri. He seemed to always be able to tell what she was thinking), and he nodded before he walked away.

Maximilian inclined his head towards the cathedral, and she followed closely after him. There was frustration and anger written as plain as day over his face, and she wanted to ask what was wrong, but she knew he would tell her eventually. They were crossing the bridge to the cathedral when he finally spoke up.

“You know Manfred is only using you.”

“Of course I do. Manfred intends to use us all one day.”

Maximilian pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “That brother of mine… it seems his worldview has not changed at all.”

“Did you expect it to?”

At that, Maximilian glanced at her before laughing and shaking his head. “Yes… I suppose you are right. Who taught you to be so clever?” There was a smile on his lips now, one that had blossomed to life simply in the few moments she had spent speaking to him.

“Patty did. Who else could have?”

“Catriona could have. We both know her well.”

Well, they both knew, had different connotations for the two of them. Edelgard knew Catriona well as a companion and role model. Maximilian knew her as well as the blood that pulsed through his veins and kept him alive—the blood that they shared, beyond just their father.

“But I suppose Patricia does make sense,” he continued with a smile, shaking his head. “Even when she was a child, she was always that kind of child.”

Child, because the last time he had seen them they had been children. Both of them had just turned twelve when Maximilian—then a mere fourteen years old—had decided to leave behind the palace in Enbarr.

But, unlike Edelgard, he did not have a wife to follow around—nor did he have a wife to revere and hold in high esteem. He only had himself, and his priesthood.

Funny, how the role of a priest could grant him more freedom than the role of a wife could grant her.

Staring up at her brother now, Edelgard couldn’t help but notice the gentleness behind his eyes. Six years ago, Maximilian had been nothing but a ball of anger—anger at the world, for taking his mother away. Anger at the world, for giving him an uncaring and unloving father. Anger at the world, for simply existing.

Edelgard did not know what had happened in his six years at the monastery. But for him to have such a nurturing glow to his eyes now… perhaps it had been best that he left the castle.

The same, she doubted, could be said for herself.

“About your husband,” Maximilian murmured, giving her pause so she could speak up. For once, she was grateful for the hesitancy in broaching the topic.

“...I don’t quite want to discuss it. Perhaps another time,” she amended quickly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “However… not at this very moment.”

Maximilian nodded, turning his gaze away to look into the reception hall that he had led them to. He guided her towards the door that led out onto the cathedral bridge, a soft sigh on his lips. “Still… to think Manfred would ask you to do this…”

“It wasn’t anything that I didn’t want to do.” Well, it was certainly half-true. It hadn’t been something that she didn’t want to do, mainly for the sake of her family. Just as her brothers and sisters back in Enbarr were her family, so was he. She had to be strong for all of them. “It’s not—”

The school bell rang before she could finish her sentence. She averted her gaze and cleared her throat, trying to dispel the… intimacy, in a manner, that clung to them like vines. “...I should get going now,” she whispered softly. She wanted so badly to hug him, to hold her brother close, but something in her heart held her back. Instead, she curtsied to him and began to walk away.

“El.”

At the sound of that word, that ever familiar nickname, she turned to look at her brother; her expression was solemn.

“Should I… be worried about you?”

There was no hesitation in her voice when she answered, her voice as sharp as a rose’s thorns. “No.”

She had to be strong.

~ / . / . / ~

“I had no idea. Hey, you really know what you’re doing, Annette!”

“You think so?”

“Definitely! You’ve obviously done a lot of studying. I—”

Edelgard stood up then, gathering her books as quietly but as quickly as she could. She quashed the guilt bubbling up in her throat, hugging her papers close to her chest as she left the library.

No. She had not left the library, she had fled the library. She knew the true nature of what she had done. She had fled the library at the sound of her classmates, simply speaking with each other. Was the thought of making friends so terrifying to her? She tried to berate herself, to get herself to budge, and yet the only answer she received was yes.

All her life, she had made friends as herself. But now… she was Prince Dimitri’s wife. She was the ninth imperial child, and the only bearer of the Crest of Seiros. Would anyone want to be Edelgard von Hresvelg’s friend? Or were they simply interested in Edelgard Blaiddyd? Who was she to say, how the people of the Kingdom would accept her? They seemed welcoming, but who could predict when that switch would flip? Would her husband even permit her to make friends?

She shook her head, trying to clear away both the crowding thoughts and the welling tears. For now, she had to find a different place to do her work. Bemoaning her own idea to flee the library, Edelgard sighed. Her room would have to do. She hurried up the stairs, hoping to reach her haven before anyone else could reach her, and she was so very close that she could almost—

“Edelgard?”

His voice sent chills down her spine, and she forced herself to turn elegantly while she was mere inches away from her front door—as if she were a lady of the lake, ethereally emerging in the moonlit night to greet her loving husband that she had missed dearly. “Dimitri,” she greeted. When he stepped closer, she could smell the soft and subtle scent of crescent moon tea. He must have been attending tea with someone.

Strange. Wasn’t his favorite tea chamomile?

Prince Dimitri glanced down at the books she was holding against her chest before smiling. “I was just looking for you. Did you just finish studying?”

Edelgard pursed her lips and shook her head. “I was going to my room so that I could continue studying.”

“I see. Would you like to study with me, then?”

She ought to have said yes. She ought to have bowed her head and said yes and went along with it. Instead, she lifted her chin to meet his eyes and shook her head. “I am perfectly fine, thank you.”

Prince Dimitri paused, glancing at her before nodding. “Very well. If you insist. But my offer will always be on the table, Edelgard.” And just when she thought she could be free, that she could retreat, he spoke up again. “I know that this time for you must be… stressful, to say the least. But I hope I can at least alleviate those feelings a little bit. If you ever need anything… please come speak with me, or Professor Seteth.”

Resisting the urge to scoff, Edelgard nodded. Her worries were not things that could be alleviated by simply speaking to someone. But he didn’t know that. He would never understand that.

But she had forgotten just how perceptive her husband was. Prince Dimitri blinked, and then inclined his head. “Did I… did I say something wrong?” he questioned, his voice as soft as a pansy petal and his eyes as bright as the waning moon.

Edelgard looked at him, her eyes narrowed as she met her husband’s gaze. “You would never understand,” she finally said, her voice as frigid as a moonless winter night. She shut the door and didn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU where Maximilian von Hresvelg and Maximillion Galactica from Ace Attorney are the same person you’re welcome I hate it too


	6. They Don’t Mean a Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Ideas: Happy one year to this fic??? That’s kind of wild actually I’m not going to think about it that way anymore I don’t like that

The scent of bergamot tea drifted through the air, and Edelgard took a deep breath to let its floral scent settle her nerves. Across the table, Maximilian watched her carefully.

“...Your favorite tea hasn’t changed, has it?” he asked after a few moments. Edelgard glanced up, smiling and blowing to cool the piping hot tea down.

“I doubt it ever will,” she replied with a smile, blowing ripples over the calm surface of bergamot tea in her cup before she dared to take a sip. Thankfully it had been a small one, for if she had taken a larger one? There was no doubt she would have burnt her tongue.

Maximilian laughed at her answer, nodding. “Yes… I suppose that’s true.” He lifted his own cup of bergamot tea to his lips, taking a tentative sip before reaching over for the container of sugar cubes. Retrieving the pair of tweezers lying beside it, he dropped two cubes into his cup.

Edelgard watched him with a smile, shaking her head. “You always did like your tea sweet.”

“I’m afraid time away from the castle has only helped me to indulge in fruity teas rather than traditional black teas.” His comment might have sounded scathing to someone else, but Maximilian had a slight smile on his face that Edelgard still recognized despite their eight years apart.

“I suppose I cannot blame you.” She lifted her teacup to her lips, humming gently. It wasn’t something she did find surprising at all. Perhaps it was something about their family, but Catriona and Maximilian had always preferred those kinds of fruitier teas, with origins in the Leicester Alliance.

Daintily, as she had been taught by her mother, Edelgard placed a jam cookie and a scone onto her plate. She pushed the basket of pastries towards Maximilian, who watched her for a moment before he reached out to take a scone of his own. “Mercedes makes quite delicious scones, doesn’t she?”

“I didn’t know she made them,” Edelgard said, staring down at the scone on her plate as if that was a revolutionary fact—as if knowing that her sister-in-law had made these scones would make them any different than they had been just moments ago.

Maximilian smiled. “She takes to the kitchen when she has time. You haven’t seen her there?”

“I can’t say I have.”

There was a reason Edelgard hadn’t seen Mercedes around the monastery much aside from during class. Annette, as well. And Ashe, for that matter, and Ingrid and Sylvain and Felix and Dedue and everyone except for Prince Dimitri, who knocked on her door every night to bid her good night and a night of refreshing sleep.

Edelgard picked up the small container of jam, using the dull knife laying beside her napkin to spread some of the jam onto her scone. “...You’ve changed,” she murmured, letting out all the thoughts she had held in her mind ever since she had reunited with him.

Maximilian smiled. “I knew you would say that.”

“You’re not angry or upset anymore. You seem… peaceful.”

“I certainly feel that way.” He laughed softly. “It’s been quite some time since I last saw you, hasn’t it? And in that time… I’ve certainly changed. Last I saw you, you looked at me with such worry that I could not even bear to kiss you goodbye.”

Allowing herself to smile slightly, she nodded. “Yes… I remember that. You had been so angry… I couldn’t help worrying. After all… it had quite an adverse affect on Catriona.”

Even years after, the memory of Maximilian’s departure remained etched not only in Edelgard’s mind, but surely also in all of her other siblings’ minds (although etched, perhaps, in Edelgard’s mind for a different reason). That day, after all, had been the first day that one of their siblings had ever left their castle in Enbarr—permanently.

She remembered standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Patricia and Andreas, watching as Maximilian made his way down the line of his siblings. He had patted Angelika’s head and shook Wolfgang’s hand. Lycaon had followed him. Paul stood beside Louisa at the end of the line, clutching her hand. Louisa herself had been a mere six years old. Catriona and Manfred had stood by his carriage, waiting for the moment before he left once and for all to say their final good-byes.

In the distance, the peach eagles cawed eagerly. The peach blossoms had already bore fruition. Now, they feasted; then, they would retreat to their homes up in the Oghma Mountains and wait for the peach flowers to blossom again.

None of it had felt right to Edelgard. When Maximilian accepted Patricia’s hug and opened his arms for Edelgard to hug him, she looked up into his shocking blue eyes and found that she couldn’t wish him the best because she didn’t know if he would even be well.

“...Please stay safe,” she had instead whispered, and Maximilian had recoiled so quickly that Edelgard’s mother had drawn her closer—out of fear, or something similar to it.

But Maximilian had not done anything. Instead, he had simply turned his gaze away and walked down the line of siblings to say his farewells to Andreas.

Maximilian gave her a tight-lipped smile at that. “I heard,” he murmured. “Even now… I am not entirely certain that she did not marry Lord Nuvelle because of my absence. Perhaps, if I had been there…” he trailed off then. Edelgard reached over the table and took her brother’s hand in hers, shaking her head.

“No. Don’t say that, Maximilian. That’s not true. You and I both know that.” She squeezed his hand, and Maximilian squeezed back. “She did that for us… for all of us. It is as much my fault as it is yours.”

Running his finger over her knuckles, he smiled and squeezed her hand again before withdrawing it. “Thank you, my sister,” he said, reaching over to lift his cup of tea to his lips. The wind passed by, and the flowery fragrance of his tea drifted through the air. He paused for a moment, and then glanced up to meet her gaze. “How has your time in the monastery been?”

At that, Edelgard pursed her lips and turned her gaze down towards her scone. “It has… been well.”

“I doubt that, El.”

She hadn’t known how her brother would parse her reply to his question, but she certainly hadn’t expected that response. Edelgard’s fingers tightened around the edge of her plate, and then calmly took the scone up and lifted it to her lips.

“El. Eight years may have passed, but I know you better than anyone else here. From the moment you told me I should not be worried about you… I knew. Something is wrong. What is the matter?”

Petals danced through the air, drifting as though they were migrating—like emperor butterflies, returning home to the Empire in the late days of the Red Wolf Moon. Edelgard lifted her head to watch them, and kept silent. In all honesty?

She herself didn’t quite know what the matter was.

Setting the scone back down, she lifted her eyes to meet her brother’s gaze. “...I don’t know,” she admitted in a soft, uncertain voice. “I… I really don’t know.”

The mask was starting to slip. She swallowed harshly, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. She couldn’t let anyone see. She couldn’t show anyone that this was happening, she couldn’t possibly let them see her like this—

Gentle fingers, resting on her hand and stroking her knuckles soothingly, made Edelgard purse her lips. Couldn’t her brother…? Shouldn’t her brother…?

Some part of her mind rejected the thought.

“...Maybe another time,” she whispered, standing so abruptly that her chair almost fell over. With reflexes as quick as lightning, she turned and pulled it upright, pushing it in and offering her brother a strained smile. “I… I need to go.”

Maximilian, watching her, only nodded. “...If you ever need anything, you know where to find me.”

“Of course. Good day, Maximilian.”

“Good day, El.”

Through it all, he sat perfectly still—as still as the pressed roses Patricia had sent Edelgard as a memento of their home. Only his eyes watched her, following her. She felt his gaze on her, even when she returned to her room on the third floor, high above the rest of the monastery.

The threat of breaking and ruining everything she had worked for seemed all too real.

~ / . / . / ~

“It looks delicious, Dedue!”

“I’m glad you think that,” Dedue said with a smile, lifting the serving spoon and placing a serving of stewed meat and vegetables into her bowl. Edelgard, standing in line behind the rest of her classmates, took a deep breath and steadied herself as she waited for the line to advance.

Only a few more hours. A few more hours, and she didn’t have to be with them.

Ingrid, with a pleasant farewell to Dedue, moved forward in the dining hall line. Edelgard took a step forward, placing her bowl of rice down on the table and pushing it towards Dedue gently. Dedue took the bowl and spooned a ladleful into her bowl, glancing up at her. “Is this enough?”

“Yes, thank you,” she said in a soft voice, and accepted her bowl back with a tight smile on her lips. “I’m sure I will enjoy it.”

“I hope you will,” Dedue commented, with what seemed like a genuine smile on his lips. Edelgard felt guilty, forcing herself to smile at him, but… she couldn’t do anything else except pretend to smile.

With that said, she nodded to him before turning and slipping out of line. Dessert didn’t seem all too appetizing to her, despite her sweet tooth. At Garreg Mach, that seemed to be the pattern; that especially seemed to be the case on certain days, when the sound of currants cooking on the stove and the scent of confections baking in the fired-up ovens drifted through the kitchen and the familiar scent almost made her want to gag.

(Just remembering her home while she was so, so far away made her want to cry at the same time.)

Glancing around the dining hall, Edelgard pursed her lips and avoided the eagle-eyed stares of two certain students—instead continuing to scan desperately for anywhere she could sit by herself, anywhere she could sit where she wouldn’t be disturbed, but just at that moment her husband came walking up and she had to bite her lip to keep herself from sighing loudly.

“Edelgard. Come join us,” Prince Dimitri offered with a smile, his own tray of food still in his hands. She stiffened and swallowed harshly before nodding.

“...Very well,” she murmured, and followed him to the table where the rest of her—his, she berated herself, anything that was hers was his—classmates were sitting.

The rest of the Blue Lions were already speaking with each other, too caught up in their conversation to notice that Prince Dimitri and Edelgard had arrived at the table, and were taking a seat together. Together, of course, because Edelgard knew better than to try and stray from her husband’s side.

Perhaps, if she stayed silent and did as he asked and acted just as obedient as the snide noblemen who came to the castle every moon for government affairs advised her to act, he would not ask her how she was doing. Perhaps, if she was gentle and soft and bent her ear to her husband’s every request, he would learn that he did not need to discipline nor care for her, and perhaps then she could finally have time to herself.

That was all Edelgard could hope for.

“Don’t you think so, Edelgard?” Prince Dimitri’s prompting made her start and look up from where she was running her spoon through her bowl of stew. What had he…?

Everyone was staring at her now, waiting expectantly for an answer. Pursing her lips, she simply nodded and took a deliberate bite of her meal. At the sight of Edelgard eating, the Blue Lions seemed to forget that she existed. They turned back towards their conversation, laughing and poking fun at each other.

Then and again they would turn to her, but Edelgard would simply repeat the process that had worked so well the first time—take a bite deliberately, just as they were asking her a question, and hope that they would forget what they were going to say to her.

It worked every time. They smiled at her, so understandingly and reassuringly, and returned to their own conversations. She tried to answer, tried to say something, but the moment she opened her mouth it all came flooding back—be obedient, be kind, don’t speak up—and she resigned herself to taking another silent bite as fruitful and vibrant conversation danced around her. Mocking her.

The stew Dedue had prepared was indeed delicious. She held back the urge to vomit.

~ / . / . / ~

There was a single priest praying, sitting in the front rows of the pews all alone with his head bent. Edelgard stood in the doorway, peering into the cathedral. The counselor was not standing in her normal place beside the candelabras, nor could she see the priest that manned the statues of the saints from where she was standing.

The moonlight slipped into the cathedral behind her, leaving a long shadow of her figure on the floor and an eerie outline of the priest—as though he could turn into a hideous monster at any moment and turn to attack Edelgard or anyone close by.

But she knew better than to trust her eyes.

“...Maximilian?”

The silhouette of her brother started slightly, and when he turned Edelgard felt relief fill every part of her mind and soul. It was him. Her family was here. She was safe.

“It’s you…”

“El? What are you doing here?” he asked. As she approached him, she could see the full concern blossoming in his blue eyes. “It’s late… don’t you have class tomorrow?”

She nodded, and yet took a seat beside her brother. Looking at him, with his siblings’ sharp nose and cleft chin and their father’s sharp cheekbones and their grandmother’s blue eyes made it all come pouring out of her like a waterfall. She lowered her head and spoke, her voice barely audible. “I don’t belong,” she whispered. “Not with them… I…”

“Oh, El…” Maximilian drew his arms around her, stroking her head gently as she rested her head against his shoulder and tried to recollect herself. “It’s alright, El… it’s alright.”

“I don’t know why,” Edelgard sobbed softly, tears welling in her eyes. “I don’t know why, but I… I can’t. I can’t do it… they… I…”

Maximilian kept his arms wrapped around her, starting to rock her back and forth. “El…”

“Is this what the rest of my life will be? Stuck, like an eagle trapped in a cage? Will I never be free…? I…” There was something in her soul that longed, begged to be free. And yet, there was some part of her that knew it would never happen. She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she would never get what she yearned for.

Perhaps that was what made her cry more than anything.

The curfew bell, ringing slowly yet clearly through the crisp night air, made Edelgard take a deep breath to collect herself before she drew away from Maximilian. “I… I should go,” she whispered, wiping her tears away. She had done her best to stay out of trouble up until this moment. There was no use in getting caught now.

Maximilian smiled and nodded, drawing his cloak tight around himself before leaning in to kiss her on the forehead. “You’re strong, El,” he whispered. “You’re strong… you’ll make it. You’ll be okay. I know you will be.”

She couldn’t bring herself to even believe her brother’s words. Yet, she nodded and managed a smile. Gently, he ruffled her hair before nodding towards the exit of the cathedral.

“Go on, now. Before the priests come to join me for evening prayer.”

“...Very well,” she whispered, and stood. She could feel her brother’s gaze on her as she walked down the aisle and hurried out of the cathedral, not sparing the bright and full moon above her a second glance. She would have plenty of time to contemplate her freedom in her own room.

The torches inside of the reception hall were still lit. She still had time before the knights went around on their patrol and snuffed them out, leaving her to navigate her way in complete darkness. She quickened the pace of her step, her boots clicking against the cobblestone path that outlined the short distance between the bridge to the cathedral and the reception hall.

“Edelgard.”

The familiar voice made her tense up instinctively. She drew her coat around herself and turned to look at him. “...It’s late. You shouldn’t be out.”

Prince Dimitri smiled. “I could say the same for you. I was speaking with the counselor… it seems our session went a tad too long.”

“I see.” Silence dragged between the two of them as Prince Dimitri walked closer, the sound of his footsteps so similar to the death knell that had tolled loudly years ago, announcing the death of a royal concubine whom both she and Maximilian could still remember vividly.

“That was your brother, wasn’t it?” Edelgard nodded, uncharacteristically stiff, but Prince Dimitri didn’t seem to notice it. He simply laid his hand on her shoulder and smiled. “I’m glad you have family here, at the very least.”

His last little comment rang in her ears, echoing in the chambers of her mind, and she turned her gaze down to her feet. Had he noticed? Had he known? Did he know how she felt? Would he say anything about it?

Edelgard received no answer to any of her questions from her husband. Prince Dimitri squeezed her shoulder and nodded towards the reception hall, where the torches illuminated a path through the building towards the staircase. “You’d best hurry back, now. Before the guards come out for curfew duty.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you.” She didn’t spare him a second glance—brushing past him and hurrying upstairs to her room.

She couldn’t stand to look at him any moment longer, him and his sympathetic beryl eyes and his head of gold, the moonlight surrounding him like a halo. The worst thing was that she could not say whether he deserved that halo or not.

~ / . / . / ~

Edelgard tapped the pointed end of her quill against its accompanying inkwell, squeezing her eyes shut and staring at the empty parchment in front of her. Staring at it did her no good, nor did thinking. She could not think of anything. Willing words into existence would not happen.

With a sigh, she set her quill down and stood up. Perhaps she could think of something to write to Patricia about while she fell asleep. For now, she needed to get ready for bed. It was getting dark, wasn’t it? A glance outside her window confirmed her suspicions.

A shuffle outside of her door made her glance over. Her throat clenched instinctively, somehow already knowing who it was. The moon, staring at her from high up in the sky, let her know exactly who it was. Taking a deep breath to regroup herself and reassemble her act, she walked over to the door and opened it.

Prince Dimitri was standing outside, his hand raised—as if about to knock on her door when she had opened it. Upon seeing it he started and smiled slightly, although there was something… off about the way he was holding himself. Edelgard couldn’t describe it. She just knew. 

“...Is something the matter?” she asked after a moment of stretched, awkward silence. What was it, exactly, that he seemed so scared to say?

Pursing his lips, Prince Dimitri averted his gaze for a moment before looking back up at her. “Are you… available, right now?”

“Yes, of course.” Anything for her husband; she knew it had to be that way.

Something flitted through his eyes for a moment, as quickly as a russet fox darting through the forest foliage, but as soon as she saw it it vanished; Prince Dimitri cleared his throat and smiled reassuringly at her. “It is nothing bad. I promise you that.”

Whether it was bad or good, Edelgard knew it didn’t matter to her in the end. She simply stayed silent, allowing her husband to speak his piece as he pleased. It didn’t matter to her in the end.

And yet, somehow—

“I made a request to the Archbishop to transfer you into the Black Eagles house.”

He had done what?

He held up his hand, a signal for her to hold back her thoughts until he finished speaking—as though she had thoughts to say. When he drew his breath and began to speak again, it all came pouring out.

“Archbishop Rhea complied. Starting tomorrow, you will be a part of the Black Eagles house. Additionally… I have asked for a temporary change of name. For the duration of our stay at the monastery… your name will now be Edelgard von Hresvelg. I am not annulling our marriage. Far from it, in fact. But I… I want you to feel comfortable being yourself again, Edelgard. The woman you were before you married me.”

And, like that, he stopped and looked at her with such a soft look in his eyes that her heart clenched and rose to clog her throat. Edelgard swallowed once, twice, forced it down and then spoke; her voice was soft, and trembled like a red rose in the harsh nights of winter.

“You’re allowing me to…?”

“I am not allowing you. You were always allowed to, Edelgard. I simply thought… I might help give you a push.” His words were so unbelievable, Edelgard thought for a moment that she must have misheard him. She must have, she certainly must have. There was no way in the goddess’s world that he would let her…

Would he…?

The more she looked at him, the more she could not believe him. And yet, at the same time, she could. This was just like Prince Dimitri, she knew that, and yet the dichotomy made her head hurt. She pressed her hand to her forehead, and forced herself to breathe. In, out. Her head spun, and then didn’t.

Prince Dimitri watched her carefully, as if she were a feral animal who would break and lash out at him at any moment. The thought made her laugh softly under her breath until reality came crashing down, pressing down on her as though she were holding up the weight of the world with her bare hands. She had done that. She had been that to him.

“...What ought I do now?” she finally asked, daring to speak up. Her head was still turning, still trying to understand the gravity of the situation.

At that, he laughed—as though he thought it were a joke. “Whatever you would like to do, Edelgard.” He spoke with such confidence and such certainty, she almost could not believe what she was hearing. Her whole world had been turned upside and flipped rightside up and turned upside down, over and over and over again to the point where she did not know which was right and which was wrong.

“What… of the other housemates? And of the professors, and of the stable duty, and of my coursework, and—”

“All of that is the monastery’s worry, Edelgard. Not yours,” Prince Dimitri reassured softly. Technicolor surreality, blossoming with red daisies and blue roses. It was all so unbelievable, so indistinguishable. Her dreams had blended into reality. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. “If you would like… you need not refer to me as your husband.”

That wasn’t right. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be true. The red daisies blossomed into black maple leaves, the blue roses grew into lilac roots that sprouted a tree with golden leaves and green acorns. It wasn’t reality. It couldn’t be.

“Nor need you wear your ring,” he added, gesturing to her hand where the sapphire-shaped weight on her heart sat.

“...Why?” she whispered breathlessly.

At that, Prince Dimitri hesitated. His bright expression dulled for just a second before he seemed to recollect himself and spoke again. “I did not want you to live in my shadow.”

“I am not—” she started, and then pursed her lips. “I am not living in your shadow.”

Prince Dimitri watched her with a careful expression on his face, a look so careful and different and sharp that she could practically feel his blue eyes boring holes into her. She had to avert her gaze the moment he began to speak. “Perhaps so. Still, Edelgard. I… I know how hard it has been. But you are your own person before you are my wife.”

Edelgard shook her head, pure disbelief coursing through her blood. “...I am your wife. That is all I must be, and all I can be.”

“Such hopelessness is unbecoming of you, Edelgard.”

Edelgard swallowed harshly and continued averting her gaze. It was no good. She could still feel his eyes resting on her, piercing into her very soul. After a few moments, she took a deep breath and looked Prince Dimitri in the eyes. When she opened her mouth to try and speak, she couldn’t find anything to say.

Extending his hand, Prince Dimitri found hers and squeezed it gently. His hand was warm, so warm, and his touch felt like a red-hot iron against her skin. “...I shall see you soon, Edelgard.”

And then, with a gentle smile, he turned and left her standing in the doorway of her own room. Edelgard watched him go with wide eyes, forcing herself to take a deep breath before she turned and shut the door behind her.

Walking limply over to her bed with her perfectly tucked red blankets, Edelgard laid down and stared up at the ceiling blankly. She felt… strange. Her heart pounded, her fingers trembled, her lip quivered. Blood coursed through her veins. Why was she…?

No… why had he done that? Why had he done that for her sake?

He hadn’t needed to. He could have let her continue the way she was. She never would have raised an objection to it. He could have let her continue, let this marriage continue to run its path until she was gone and buried six feet underneath and even then she never would have said anything.

Everything she had been taught and told was to be gentle. Submissive. Obedient and kind and compassionate and never to be herself, never to be the person her husband didn’t want her to be.

Certainly Catriona had never been that, but that was because Edelgard’s oldest sister was… Catriona. Strong, brave, fearless Catriona, who stood up to her husband until the day he had died. Irreplaceable, unshakable Catriona, who had a claim to the throne and who could dare to be more than just Countess Hrym because she had a place to be more than just Countess Hrym.

But Edelgard was… none of that. She was not, could not possibly be—

Prince Dimitri’s words chose that very moment to come back to her.

“Such hopelessness is unbecoming of you,” he had told her. She pursed her lips and kept her gaze fixated on the ceiling of her dorm room. Who was he, to tell her what was and wasn’t becoming of her?

...But he was right. He might have only been her husband for the better part of a moon now, but he was right. Such hopelessness _was_ unbecoming of her. The very reason she had come here was because of her undying hope and belief in herself—all for the sake of her family. It had been because of herself that she had decided to accept his hand in marriage.

Yet, somewhere in between her decision and her move to the Officers’ Academy, she had lost sight of that reason—jumbled up in all of the homesickness and the new scenery and the acting and the mere idea that she could not be herself anymore.

But that was not true. That… wasn’t true, was it?

She fell asleep, laid atop the red blankets of her bed and staring up at the acacia wood ceiling until her eyes grew tired and slowly fluttered shut, the way the wind kissed the feathers of a cardinal taking flight into the endless and infinite blue sky.

If she was to share the rest of her life with a man like him, who had recognized her as her own person and showed her a way to continue growing, despite what had seemed like the end of the road to her—someone like… Dimitri?

That… she would not be opposed to.

But that was something Edelgard Blaiddyd could worry about. For now… she was Edelgard von Hresvelg again. She could be herself again.


End file.
